


Stranger Than Paradise

by Monroe_Happens



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux, Phantom - Susan Kay, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: A - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Modern Era, Other, meg - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:40:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 21
Words: 22,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26352055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monroe_Happens/pseuds/Monroe_Happens
Summary: Different snapshots of life. The good, the bad, pretty, ugly, and everything that goes with living and surviving.
Relationships: Erik & Nadir Khan, Erik | Phantom of the Opera & Madame Giry, Erik | Phantom of the Opera & Meg Giry, Erik | Phantom of the Opera & The Persian, Erik | Phantom of the Opera/Little Sultana, Erik | Phantom of the Opera/Meg Giry, Erik | Phantom of the Opera/The Persian, Raoul de Chagny & Erik | Phantom of the Opera, Raoul de Chagny/Erik | Phantom of the Opera
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	1. Marie and Sasha Are Good Parents

Marie wipes sweat from her brow. She has been trying to keep herself busy all morning. Madeleine has been a right terror and pain all week. The weather has been insufferably hot, which left afternoon walks out of the question, which meant she would be restless and act even more so the spoiled pampered princess. It was truly maddening!

Gardening. That is something that Marie always found joy in. She opens the door and just like that as if she just appeared out of thin air, Sasha made a run for it.

“Sasha!” Marie ran after the beloved spaniel.

Marie chased the dog all over the garden before the pesky pet made a break for it towards the town center in the small village. They passed several villagers all whispering, cursing. Some shouting about devils, demons, and dogs.

“Sasha, stop it!” Marie is breathless and this dress is not fit for such exertions.

Sasha does stop. Whenever Marie is too far away, Sasha sits. Wags her tail and waits for Marie to reach an appropriate distance and then it is back to the chase. Sasha knocks over a flower cart, only to pick up a mouthful of a fancy bouget while Marie says her apologies as she chases after the dog thief.

“Sasha!” Marie fears that she will lose her voice as well as her nerve soon. If this gets back to Madeleine she will never hear the end of it!

Sasha knocks into another cart, this time is it sweets, Marie picks up two boxes as she passes. Now who is the thief? She says a few hail Mary’s as she continues after the dog.

Marie has had enough of this nonsense and has to stop. She sits down on the soft grass and tries to regulate her breathing, once it has become apparent that Marie needs time, Sasha trots over, licks Marie’s face and then lays down in front of her.

Marie pets the dog while she regains her ability to breathe evenly and without stress.

“Who’s the bouquet for?”

Sasha huroughs.

“She doesn’t need flowers. She’s been a right terror and pretty flowers will only encourage her.”

Sasha wags her tail.

“Then why are you giving her flowers?”

Sasha herrs.

“You are too kind and lenient. I thought that was my sin. Seems we’re both weak when it comes to family.”

Sasha lowers her head and paws at the sweets that Marie is holding.

“What? Can’t I have sweets too?”

Sasha gives her a look.

“I know, but he’s doing so well with his studies.”

The look intensifies.

“I promise he’ll only be allowed one and after he finishes dinner. I will make sure of it.”

Sasha makes a cough sound that Marie could have sworn was a snort or a laugh.

“I can keep things hidden if it’s in my house!”

Sasha considers this, she licks Marie’s face again, in approval/agreement.

“Look at us, spoiling our children something rotten.”

Sasha nods her head.

“It’s a good thing we’re a team. I don’t know if I could do this alone.”

Marie dusts off her dress and looks at Sasha, serious face engaged.

“It’s time we return to the children.” Marie says lightly. They both stand up. Instead of taking off, Sasha keeps pace with Marie as they make their way back home.

Madeleine greets them.

“Marie if you are going to take Sasha for a walk, I’d prefer if you told me. Erik has been quite the misery since you’ve left.”

Sasha wags her tail and drops the flowers in front of Madeleine.

“Uh, Thank you Sasha.” Madeleine has no intention of picking up the flowers. Marie sighs, picks up the bouquet and finds a nice vase for it and places it on the table as a centerpiece.

Sasha stays by Marie’s side.

“What did you expect? I told you, it would just encourage her.” Marie takes a step back and admires her work.

Marie finds Erik by the fire. Sasha wastes no time in pouncing him.

“Sasha!”

“Erik, I have something for you, but you have to promise not to tell your mother. It’s a secret between you and me.” Marie winks and holds out the box of sweets.

“For me? Why?” He’s very suspicious.

“Because you’ve been a good boy and good boys get sweets.”

Sasha licks his face something fierce to confirm this.

“Oh. Thank you, Marie.”

Marie and Sasha both sigh happily. They have good kids, for the most part.


	2. Nadir Cries, Darius Is Strong, Reza Gets High

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nadir is naïve, Darius tries to be the pillar of strength and Reza tries opium.

**1989, Small Unknown Village, Iran**

Nadir, Darius and Reza find solace in a small village far, far, away from the Shahs and their deviant ways.

He can rest his head at night without a heavy heart. He can raise Reza with Darius and know he is doing right by his son, by his Rookheeya.

“Try this,” Darius holds out a wooden spoon with a thick white batter. Nadir is hesitant at first, but he parts his lips and opens his mouth, Darius holds the spoon and Nadir nibbles some of the white substance.

He processes the taste. Something foul. He turns his head and spits it out in the bucket. Reza giggles from his perch on the trunk they use for a dinning table.

Darius frowns and he starts to empty the bowl into the same bucket. They left the palace weeks ago to pursue a new life, a new profession. They are apprentice cooks for the village inn. It is not going well.

“That is our third attempt for the same recipe. Surely, we must be able to catch our mistake by now?” Nadir reads through the paper he had been given the day before. Darius merely shrugs. Reza enjoys his live theatre from his VIP seat.

“You would think, my friend.”

“It cannot be this difficult.”

“And yet.”

“One more time. We shall go, step by step.” They read the recipe together.

“Eggs, flour, sugar,”

Darius pulls eggs, flour, opium. Nadir looks at the “sugar,” and he replaces it. He turns around to speak to Reza. Darius uses the “sugar,” and mixes the ingredients. Nadir adds the rest of what is called for, more mixing.

“Reza,” Reza eagerly steps up and opens his mouth wide and directs the spoon into his mouth.

“Well?”

He uses the spoon to eat more from the bowl. Reza giggles. He lies down on the floor and tries to catch invisible creatures.

Nadir looks behind Darius and back to the bowel. He looks at Reza.

“Did you use?” He runs over to the opium.

“The sugar.”

“That’s not sugar, you fool! That’s opium! This is the sugar!”

“Ah.”

“Ah!? What do we do?!”

“We—”

A pounding at the interrupts the pair. They run to the door. A messenger of the Shahs.

“Well?” They both shout.

“I have a—”

They pull the man inside and run back to Reza.

“Make yourself useful! Get a bucket!” Darius orders.

“Get water and a towel! Reza, come here, Reza!”

“I have—”

“Bucket! Now!” Darius helps Nadir and they both grab Reza, who appears to be enjoying his hands and the pretty colors that are floating by.

“The colors, Papa.” He’s starting to drool.

“Towel! Water!” Nadir tries to hold Reza still.

The messenger runs around the small home, he finds the bucket he places it next to the small boy he hands Darius the towel.

“Clean your hands Darius! We have to purge it out of his system!”

Darius dips his fingers into the water. Then forces Reza’s mouth open, who tries to fight him off. Nadir tries to steady his son.

“Get his Rook! His Rook!” Nadir orders the messenger. He looks around wildly.

“What’s a Rook?!”

“The stuffed toy!” Nadir nods to the stuffed animal on the floor.

“Sshh, it’s fine Reza, Papa and Darius are here.” Nadir says gently.

After several minutes of purging Reza finally falls into a deep slumber. Darius carries him to his bed. Nadir addresses the messenger and hands him some coin.

“For your help.”

“Thank you.”

“It is late and I must tend to my son. Thank you for your services, may you have a safe journey.” Nadir leads the man towards the door and pushes him out. He starts to turn to leave, when the pounding on the door gives him pause, he opens.

“Yes?”

“You must return with me.”

“Yes. I shall make my way to the palace once my son is well enough for the journey. You must depart without me. I’ll see you in court, I assume?”

He nods.

“Well, until then, friend.” He closes the door.

“We’re not really going, back are we?” Darius asks.

“Oh, no. They’ll have to drag us.”

“I assume once he is ready, we make leave for a new home.”

“Yes.”

“She will continue to send more after us.”

“I have a theory.”

“Yes?”

“ _We_ don’t have to go back. Someone _dressed_ as us must go back. Surely, she does not recognize us among the crowded court.”

“Send doubles?”

“Yes.”

“You think that could work?”

“Yes. We are of no true importance. She is just annoyed we left, once “we” return, she will pay no mind to us.”

“I’m no sure of this plan, my friend. It’s a huge risk.”

“True me, she wouldn’t know us.”

“What of the court?”

“Do you know them? I don’t.”

“This is true. I would not recognize them.”

“This is a good plan.”

When the morning comes, they take Reza and start their voyage to a new home, before they left they paid a pair of similar looking men and standing to return in their stead.

They were given money, clothing that Nadir and Darius have worn and wished them well on their journey and new life in the court. They knew they would not meet again in this lifetime, they just had different ideas on why.

It is not until nightfall they find another village. Reza is exhausted by the journey falls to slumber as soon as he is laid down to rest. Darius and Nadir stay up and plan.

“We must come up with a new way of life. The shahs are no longer a concern, as you say. They will accept our doubles, no?”

“They will, remember, we have everyman face.” Nadir is sure he is right that any other notion to counter this is cast aside. He knows how little worth and consequence he is.

“Can you craft?”

“We could work for the inn, surely they would welcome the help. We could clean, deal with difficult people. We have a skill in that area.”

“Indeed.”

Reza moans in his sleep and both turn to watch him. Their hearts are filled with both love and dread.

“Everything we do is for him.”

“Yes.”

“For Reza.”

The men retire to sleep themselves shortly after their conversation. Darius falls asleep as soon as his head touches soft fabric of his bed.

Nadir has more difficulty. He has grown accustomed to a certain presence and without it, he has not been able to have easy slumber as he had on his own.

It took him a year to be able to sleep without his lovely Rookheeya, and then that French bastard had to come along. He tries to push him from his mind.

He must move on, for Reza, that’s why he left. That’s why he must stay away. Clean break. In the middle of the day, when he knew that everyone would be distracted by magic tricks and cacophony of death.

Nadir tries to fight back the oncoming memory, but to no avail. It plays back, fresh in mind, a series of images. He cannot shut it off.

* * *

“This may very well be the last time we are at this dreadful place, surely you wish to say your farewell?” Darius halts Nadir as they are about to make it to the front door, so to speak.

Nadir knows that if he looks back, he will never be able to leave. He digs his nails into his palms so tightly he draws blood.

“Nadir?”

Darius sets down the luggage and reaches out to the other man. They were never truly master and man servant. They were always friends. They were partners, they loved Rookheeya and Reza.

“Nadir?”

Nadir cannot hear anything beyond the white-hot static and a buzzing. A crying of an insect screaming into his ears, it’s driving him to madness. He cuffs his ears and drops to his knees.

“What’s wrong with Papa, Darius?” Reza wants to cry. He’s not used to seeing his Papa in such states.

Nadir can see it. The deaths. The screams. Blood. Murder. Their laughter. The cruel sadist bitch, her favorite magic man and they bathe in blood, a false sense of power, beauty, control as they, as they.

He can see it.

Yesterday.

Tomorrow.

_“You taste like blood.”_

_Nadir backs away in horror and then. . ._

“Nadir. Get up.”

Darius pulls up to his feet.

“I killed them too.” Nadir cries. He is shaking.

Nadir looks at his palms, bleeding. He screams. Darius slaps him. He grabs his friend by the shoulders and pulls him close.

“I need you strong. For Reza. For me. For our future.”

* * *

Nadir pushes the memory of that day from his mind. He rolls over onto his back. He tries to find solace. He is in a safe place. Reza is asleep near him. Darius is there to help him, to take care of his son, their son now, when something happens to him.

Nadir will give his body, mind, soul to protect his son.

“This is for the best.” He says to the world, to Darius, to Erik and himself.

* * *

In the cold light of morning two heads fall off the shoulders of kind but naïve men.

 ** _“I want them found and I don’t care if you have to search to the ends of this Earth! Bring them to me! For every day they are not here, someone will die!”_** A shrill voice echoes throughout the court. The guards and assassins scatter.

End of Part One. . . . 


	3. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reza practices for his career as an entertainer, Nadir and Erik work out their relationship issues and Darius dances.

Reza is a favorite among the staff and guests at the inn. He is naturally cheerful and those around him cannot help but feel and share in his good humor. He is often gifted with sweets, kind words and toys.

The locals do not ask questions, they can feel and see the dark cloud that hovers over Darius and Nadir. They smile, joke, are congenial and gregarious, but it is never in their eyes. There is a darkness, and age that speaks of many sorrows.

Reza is the villagers favorite. He is very polite, he helps with tasks and is given the position of Inn Ambassador. He sits on a chair that had been crafted for him by the local woodsmith, a man who bends wood to his will, the way a blacksmith has mastery over metals, and he greets patrons, he sings songs, tells terrible yet adorable jokes, and even is used as a buffer to calm down rather difficult guests.

Darius and Nadir were welcomed almost immediately. They help out with any task, they keep to themselves, but they will lend a hand to their neighbors without question.

It has been a few months now and they haven’t had any thoughts of the Shah, or Erik. Nadir has been able to sleep at night.

“Why don’t cows have feet!” Reza says to Nala, she has been staying at the Inn for a few days now and has taken up with Reza. She is a kind older woman in her 50s, and knits in the chair in the lobby.

“Why don’t they have feet, sweet thing?”

“They lactose!” Reza squeals with laughter.

“That was udderly adorable.” Nala smiles and winks. Reza’s laughter intensifies.

Darius smiles.

“I have one, an infidel told me this. How do you make holy water?”

“How do you make holy water, Darius?”

“Boil the hell out of it.”

Nala and Reza howl with laughter.

“That was terrible!” She laughs.

“Two men walk into a bar, the third one ducks,” Nadir says as he walks by.

“What do you call a fish with no eye!” Reza shouts.

“What?” Darius and Nala ask.

“A fsh.”

“My son will be here all week.” Nadir says as he walks by again.

“Justice is a dish best served cold, if you served it warm it would be justwater.”

“Oh!” Nala must stop knitting before she stabs herself.

“How do you steal a coat?” Nadir walks around behind the desk and bends down to get something.

“How do you steal a coat, my friend?”

“You jacket.”

“That was so bad it hurt.”

“Room ten has a strange and powerful odor. I am afraid to go in. Wish Erik was here for this, he does not have a nose. I would have him go in and clean it.”

“Regrets.”

“We could ask him! Send him a letter, Papa!”

“No. We can manage.”

“Who is this, “we,” Nadir? I am not going into a smelly room. My place is here, to check in the guests.”

“I suppose it will just be left to me. Story of my life, another mess to clean.”

Nadir stands up, holding cleaning supplies and he makes his ways to the stairs up to the room.

“I got one, what do you call three dead Persians?”

\--

* * *

Nadir knocks on the door, he knows that no one is inside, but it is a curtesy and he was trained to do by the owners. Always knock.

He waits, knocks again for good measure, before opening the door slowly.

“Hello, It’s Nadir. I’m coming in.” He opens the door wide and steps in. He drops the cleaning supplies and runs down the steps.

Nala is sprawled on the floor, her neck sliced open. Darius and Reza are gone. The chair Reza had been on is turned over, there is blood on the desk and a blood trail leading out the door.

Nadir runs outside, looks to the left, looks to the right. He follows the blood, but it just ends.

“Nadir, behind you!” Darius voice calls from the shadows. Nadir drops to the ground and rolls left, hoping it’s the right move, it is. The blade misses him and stabs the ground instead.

Nadir kicks the assassins and throws sand into his eyes before he reaches for the blade. While he is spinning blind, Nadir stabs him in the chest.

Darius comes out from hiding, holding a crying Reza.

“I think she noticed!”

“Get Reza out of here!”

“What about you?”

A few more guards of the Shah appear, all ready for war.

“Now! Go! If Reza dies, I will kill you myself!” He pushes Darius harshly. He runs, Reza screams for his Papa.

“Four against one.”

“I like my odds,” Nadir says coolly. He closes his eyes and says a prayer.

_Rookheeya, grant me strength. I need your embrace._

Nadir waits for them to make the first move, he’s able to dodge and duck out of the way, he cuts the arm off of one and he screams, his companion kills him before returning attention to Nadir.

_One down, three to go._

The three work together like mirror images of each other, they flow like water and Nadir has to use everything to not fall and die. His chest get slashed, he grunts, bites down on his teeth and does he best to keep going, messy footwork, he’s on his back, he rolls, another near miss.

He’s on his knees, a sword is pointed at his throat, inches from contact.

“No friends, no protection from the Shah, what’s left?”

“Quack.”

That confuses the man. Darius hits him from behind with a large piece of wood.

“I told you to go!”

“And I came back.”

Nadir blocks the next sword aimed for his face.

“Two to go!”

“This is fun! Remember the time in Russia when those thieves tried to steal our horse?”

“Not exactly the same and there were three of us then!”

“Two and a half, you were half dead.”

“I had a cold!”

They both work together in perfect sync, almost as if they had planned this dance of death.

“You were delirious! You kept calling out to Rookheeya.” Darius blocks, parries, and then moves to the right.

“Half dead, I still fought better than you!”

“False!”

They deliver a final blow to their assailant. A slow clap interrupts the fighting friends. They slowly turn.

Erik.

He is clapping and sitting on the roof of a building across from them. He’s donned in all black, with a white full-face mask.

“Nadir, is he our friend or?” Darius asks out of the corner of his mouth.

“Er. He may be annoyed with me.” Nadir says with shades of shame in his voice.

“You did sort of just leave him.”

“Yes.” Nadir says through his teeth.

“I would have least broken up with him first.”

“Darius.”

“I told him to say goodbye!”

“Darius, shut up!”

Nadir feels so pathetic. Erik watches the pair like a curious cat, he tilts his head and remains silent. This only adds to Nadir’s stress.

Erik drops from the roof with grace, that impresses Nadir much to his annoyance. He casually walks over, even just walking he exudes intense power and sexual electricity.

He stops in front of Nadir.

“I’ll let the two of you work this out. I’ll go back to Reza.”

Darius hurries off.

“You smell nice.” Nadir rubs the back of his neck, then fiddles with the collar of his shirt. It had been a cool day, but now it feels like he’s in a fire.

Erik reaches out and cups Nadir’s face with his hand. Nadir tenses, but when nothing happens, he relaxes. Erik then squeezes and he throws Nadir into the ground.

Nadir rolls into his back.

Yup.

“I did it for Reza.”

Erik says nothing, he presses his boot onto Nadir’s throat, he doesn’t uses full force, but just enough to let Nadir know he’s pissed.

“I should have left a note.”

More pressure.

“I should have talked to you.”

Less pressure.

“You couldn’t come with me, She would never have let you go. It would have put Reza at risk, she would have hunted you specifically and that would have been an army. I don’t doubt your skills and I know there would be no challenge, a light workout, heh, but I don’t want Reza to know that side of you and I know you don’t either.”

He removes the boot from his throat. He kicks him in the side.

Nadir sits up, cough blood and split. He deserved that. Erik holds out a hand, and Nadir uses it to stand up.

“Are we okay?”

Nothing.

“ _Can_ we be okay? I would like to work this out. If that’s something you wanted?”

Nadir reaches for Erik’s hands, and after a resistance, Erik allows for it.

He nods.

“Is this silent treatment going to last long? It’s a long way back to the palace.”

Erik turns around and leads him to the safehouse.

“I take that as a yes.”

* * *

**End of that particular arc.**


	4. Sasha Learns to Dance

Sasha is damn clever, but Marie is up to her tricks, they read each other well and have taken it upon themselves to step in and parent their wonderful woeful children.

Marie is in the kitchen preparing to bake one of her favorite cakes. It is a simple recipe, but it never lasts long in the house. Sasha, thinking she is so clever, is laying down directly behind Marie.

“I know you’re there.”

Sasha herrrah’s and then lays her head back down. Marie turns her body slowly around. Yup. Damn dog is waiting for her to trip. Honestly, Madeleine still trips, the fool woman.

“How many roasts have you won, by your devious ways, Sasha?”

Sasha wags her tail while offering an innocent look. Marie scoffs.

“I know you.”

Sasha snorts and wags her tail. Marie shakes her head.

“Well, this simply will not do. I need space and you do not need to get any fatter.”

Sasha growls, it’s low and not too serious. Marie places her hand over her heart.

“Well, it’s not as if I’m blind. I know Erik feeds you his dinner each night.”

Sasha lifts her head and turns it away, annoyed at such notions.

“No? So, Marie is seeing things? You don’t have meat hang from the corner of your mouth?”

Sasha looks down.

“Ah, thought so.”

Marie bites her lip and thinks of a clever way to get Sasha out of the way.

“Erik!”

Sasha wags her tail. Erik comes into the kitchen, cautiously. He sees Sasha and he is at her side in an instant.

“Erik, I would like to play a game with you, if you’re up to it.” Marie says sweetly. Sasha looks over at her, she’s up to her tricks too.

“What kind of game, Marie?”

“I’ve messaged Sasha’s doctor, you remember him. And he said one way to extend Sasha’s life, is exercise. A fun exercise for dogs.”

“What’s the exercise?” Anything to help keep Sasha around longer sounds freaking great to Erik, he does not hide his interest.

“Have you heard of the dance Quadrille?”

He nods.

“I would like you to teach Sasha.”

“Teach Sasha to dance?” He is very puzzled, so is Sasha.

“Erik, if you teach Sasha, I’ll let you have an extra sweet tonight and you can pick the size of the cake you want, if you want one.”

Erik’s golden eyes glow. Marie is the only one outside of Sasha who treats him and cares for him. He commands Sasha to follow him and they leave the kitchen.

Marie exhales with relief she goes back to the cake.

“Erik, what in Gods name are you doing!?”

Marie sighs

“Madeleine, don’t you scold him! I told him to exercise with Sasha, so help me, I will beat you with this spoon!”

Marie storms out of the kitchen, with said wooden spoon in her hand, and sends a very severe look Madeleine’s way. Madeleine backs away from Erik.

“Erik, continue sweetie, you’ve done nothing wrong. Madeleine go sit in a corner and be silent!” She points with the spoon.

Sasha growls at Madeleine. Marie smiles at Erik and rubs his shoulder comfortingly before she goes back into the kitchen.

Once the cake is in the oven, Marie goes to check Erik’s progress. Much her surprise Madeleine has joined the dance. Sasha is passed to Madeleine, and then back Erik, and for a moment, there is no animosity, no judgements, Madeleine and Erik are even laughing together.

Marie doesn’t dare intrude, but instead watches from afar with happy tears in her eyes and love in her heart.


	5. Ma'am

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do not call a Miss a Ma'am.

“Everything is terrible and dark.”

“Yeah?”

“There is no point to life. I will stay here until the ground swallows me.”

“I think you’re overacting.”

“You would say that to me.”

“I did say that to you.”

“You are cruel.”

“You are melodramatic. I hear that they are looking for new actors on this one soap opera. . . “

“Do not speak to thee of melodrama! I am truly forlorn. Begone you, you of no heart!”

“Now that I think of it, you’re probably too old.”

“I’m three years younger than you.”

“I’m not trying out for it.”

“Here I lie, at my lowest point and you mock me.”

“I think you need to get over yourself.”

“Oh, you’re such a Delilah"

“That doesn’t apply to us. We are not lovers. I have better hair than Samson.”

“You wish.”

“Now who’s being rude?”

“Still you.”

“This is ridiculous now.”

“It is not!”

“I could just leave you here. Raoul is waiting outside, and I don’t have time for this.”

“Fine, abandon me in my hour of need!”

“He didn’t mean anything by it, I’m sure.”

“Lies.”

“It’s just a placeholder. He doesn’t know your name.”

“Miss, Lady.”

“Yes.”

“Ma’am. They are old.”

“You’re not old.”

“Oh? So, what, I should just ignore the insult?”

“It wasn’t an insult. God. Did you replace your soul with Carlotta? I’m leaving you here.”

“I’m seventeen!”

“I know.”

“He called me ma’am!”

“I know, I was there.”

“Ma’am! Like my name is Agnes and I have 20 cats and smoke 30 packs a day, have you seen my grandkids? Get off my lawn! Damn these youths, their music and the cocaines.”

“You are the prettiest princess in the room. Belle has nothing on you, can you get up now? There is line now for the bathroom and we have to go if we’re going to make the show.”

“I am young! I am vibrant!”

“No argument there.”

Christine must pull Meg to her feet.

“Ma’am.”

“You are a ‘Miss,’ if anything. Can we please go?”

“I’m going to hit him with my shoe.”

Christine pushes her friend out of the bathroom.

“Fine, whatever, but we’re leaving now.”

“Ma’am!” Meg shakes her hands in the air.


	6. Nadir and the Cats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nadir has a nightmare about cats. Not about Cats, but still, just as terrible.  
> I actually had this dream. It was weird and terrible

“Are you ready, my friend?” Darius greets Nadir by the door. They have been called to appear at court before the shah and Nadir has been avoiding this all day.

“Is there a still a chance to flee? Perhaps hide in the kitchens?” Nadir feels Darius’s strong-arm wrap around his shoulders and lead him in the appropriate direction.

“We have just returned, and our favor is fragile, lets wait until we have a stronger foundation, before we try something.” Nadir looks to his left.

A cat he is unfamiliar with watches him, arches it back and hisses and slashes claws at Nadir. Nadir hisses back. Darius pulls him along.

“Guards are anxious today.” Nadir watches them run past them. He spies another cat; it pounces at Nadir’s legs and starts to bite and scratch him. He kicks it away.

“You’re popular today, my friend. Must be a new perfume.” Darius chuckles.

“Cats never liked me.” Nadir looks at his legs, the fabric is torn and bloody. He tries to ignore the sting.

“Do we know what they want? Someone else to collect? A toymaker? A fireman?”

“A baker would be nice. Someone to make special sweets, like what we had at the inn.”

“Ah, yes.”

They finally arrive at court. The two men make their way past other important nobles, important traveling guests until they stand before their shah.

“You’ve kept me waiting, daroga. I don’t like being ignored.” Nadir doesn’t dare look at the shah and instead chooses to stare at his feet.

His precious pet cat jumps at Nadir, Nadir hits it and the cat lands on the ground, on all fours, no damage, jumps back onto its owner’s lap.

Members of the court gasp in shock at such a display. Nadir realizes his mistake much too late. Darius is frozen. He does not know what to do.

“It appears that you still do not know your place.” The shah, who has been hiding their face behind a fine silk fabric removes it.

Nadir steps back in shock, the shah’s face has been replaced with that of a mutated Siamese cat head. He hisses and guards grab Nadir’s arms.

“Send him to the hall of mirrors! You will learn your place, soon enough!”

Nadir cannot feel his body as he taken away by cat like man creatures.

He pushed inside the hall. He looks around in horror. He holds his head and falls to his knees screaming. He feels something bite, tear, hiss, rip into him.

* * *

“Aaah!” Nadir is thrashing, screaming, kicking his sheets. He punches the air and moves wildly.

He feels strong arms pin him down, he cannot move, no more punching, no more thrashing. Someone is on top of him.

At first his fear intensifies but he hears a beautiful melody and sees her face, the stars, and that voice, he knows that voice. His voice. He is safe here.

“Shhh.” A smoothing voice calls, whispers, sings, hums. It is a peaceful, loving lullaby.

He feels, gentle, soothing, loving, caresses, that start at his chest and move upwards to his neck, face.

He feels calmer by the minute and is finally able to relax.

“Fucking cats.” He finally exhales. His lover lies down next to him and they wrap around each other.

“Cats?”

“Cats, cats, cats. They kept jumping on me.”

“You have a thing with cats, lover.”

“Then the shah turned into a cat and sent me to the mirror maze deathtrap.”

His lover’s body stiffens.

“What?”

“Can you believe it? Stupid cats stalked me there too! Could not even go mad in peace like the others. Next time they send me, I am bringing a stick.”

“Let’s not have a _first_ time.”

“Ah, they’ll probably try to send me there a few times. Got any advice?”

“That’s not funny.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Ok, I’ll try not to get sentenced to execution.”

“Good.”

They settled together and Nadir is about to fall asleep, but he cannot help himself.

“If you were to give advice? Is there a magic mirror you can hide behind?”

He feels pain near his groin. Sharp nails dig into his soft flesh and the pain intensifies as a new target is found, twisted. He cries out in pain.

“Goodnight, my love!” and Nadir closes his eyes and the pain stops. He feels a tap, tap on his chest, good boy, it says.


	7. Reza, the Comedy Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nadir faces a realty he is not prepared for and Reza decides his future career.

“When I grow up I want to be a comedy man!” Reza tells Nadir during dinner. Darius and Nadir drops their utensils. Reza is excited and he has written many new jokes and he sneaks off to the kitchens, and the cooks love his jokes and they give him treats.

Nadir looks to Darius and Darius looks away. This is not a conversation that either man has been prepared for.

“A comedy man?” Nadir asks when he finds his voice. Reza nods.

“I’ll tell jokes and make people laugh and happy! Like at the inn! Can we go back to the inn and the village? I miss Daria.” Daria is a crush of Reza’s. He told her they would marry and she believed him.

“That is something we can discuss another time, Reza. We cannot leave the palace just yet.” Nadir says.

“Why a comedy man and not be like your father?” Darius asks.

“Because I want to make people smile! Papa saves people in his own way, and I want to save people with smiles and laughter!”

It’s all Nadir and Darius can do to not cry at that moment.

“You are a good boy, Reza.” Nadir says.

“Tell us a joke, comedy man.” Darius asks.

“I don’t trust stairs. They’re always up to something!”

“That doesn’t sound like one of yours,” Nadir muses.

“Nala told me that!”

“Ah. Nala.” Darius and Nadir frown. They miss that woman and will never forget her.

“Tell us another, joke man.”

“What do you call someone with no body and no nose?”

Darius and Nadir both think of Erik.

“What do you call someone with no body or nose, Reza?”

“Nobody knows!”

They laugh.

“How many tickles does it take to make an octopus laugh?”

“How many tickles, little one?”

“Ten tickles!”

“What kind of shoes do ninjas wear?”

“I don’t know, “Nadir says.

“Sneakers!”

“You will be a great comedy man, Reza, Foreign kings and shahs will travel all over to see you.” Darius says. Reza smiles brightly. Nadir says nothing. He has to leave the world for a while.

Nadir does not say anything for the rest of dinner, he doesn’t clean up the dishes and he doesn’t say anything when Reza begs him to tuck him in, read him his favorite story with his voices.

“Your Papa is tired, little one. Let him be.” Darius gathers Reza in his arms, bathes him, readies him for bed, does his best to read the story and do the voices justice.

“That was terrible, but I love you anyway.” Reza kisses Darius nose and lays down and lets Darius tuck him in.

“Nadir.” Darius kneels by his friend’s side.

“How long do we have left with him, truly?”

“Months, maybe less. I surely do not know. Ask Erik. He knows more of such things.”

“When he dies, I want to go with him.”

“What will that do, Nadir?”

“I want to be with him. In life, in death. He is my son. I am meant to be where he is.”

“And what of those who you need you here, alive?”

“My son is my life. Without him, I have nothing, I am nothing.”

“You will not stop being Nadir because of Reza’s death.” Darius felt ill saying those words. Hearing them, saying them made it a reality. Reza is going to die.

“There is not point to this life if I am no longer a father.”

“What of me? I surely will be lost without you, my master.”

Nadir makes a strange sound.

“You are no more my servant than I am a tree.”

“See? I need you around, so you can teach me such things.”

“Darius, if you truly want a master, I am sure Erik will allow you to serve him. He **_is_** the type. You know how much he **_lusts_** over power. How’d you think I got him here?”

“I thought it was your wit and eyes.”

“Well, I mean, there is also that.”

“And who is to take care of Erik, when you are gone? You are the only one who can bring him down from his **_heightened_** states.”

“You will learn, remember, you will serve him,”

“Yes, but I still need you to teach me of your skills, your wily wiles.”

“Darius.”

“I am afraid I cannot allow this selfishness, Nadir. You must endure this life to the natural end. Reza would want that. You know in your heart, Rookheeya would want that as well.”

“Darius, I have lost so much and will lose the one thing that has kept me sane. How can I carry on without my son? My light, my laughter?”

“You will have him with you, the way you have Rookheeya. Remember, you are not alone. You have never been alone.”

“When I lost Rookeehya I promised her, I would never love another, never marry another. That my son, our son, would be the light, would carry me home. Now, I am losing him too.”

“Those are many different frustrations. This isn’t just about Reza is it?”

“Perhaps not.”

“You are not betraying her.”

“How can you say that?”

“Because you are not. You are allowed to move on. In our religion, in our culture and in your heart. She will always be there, you will always have your memories and the time together.”

“Yes.”

Nadir wants to shrink away and leave this place.

“Erik is young and I am old.”

“Erik has different rules than those of man. He may be physically nineteen, but he is so much older than you or I.”

Nadir nods.

“He has just as much lust for you as he does for power.”

Nadir laughs, this is also true.

“Erik will also follow you to the ends of the Earth if you leave again without word, so he can kill you just to hold you in his arms one last time.”

“This is getting very morbid.”

“You know this to be true.”

“Yes. Yes.”

“See? You must endure this life, for me, for Reza, for Rookheeya, and Erik.”

“Yes.”

“Because he will kill everyone that gets in his way to you. That’s a lot of death, and it will be on your head.”

“Thank you, Darius.”

“I mean, I am just saying, he’ll probably be soaked with blood. It will take months to get it all out.”

“Darius, you can stop now. I get it.”

“You’ll know your way back by the trail of the dead.”

“Darius! I get it!

“On your head.”

“You may leave me now, I shall go to bed myself.”

“Months and months of washing.”

“Darius, goodnight!”

Darius mutters more about corpses and blood as he walks to his bedroom.  
  



	8. Sticks and Coitus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life is hard during the Covid-19

**France, 2020, (work with me)**

He is working, nay, creating a new universe and he is pouring everything into this new work, so of course now is the time to distract him, spend the day together, have a moment. She sighs loudly and makes as much noise as possible as she sits in the expensive and old armchair that is behind him.

“This covid-19 thing sucks.” She exaggerates her affect and tap, tap, taps her fingers against the surface of the arm rest.

She waits for some kind of response, nothing. She will be not be deterred from the desired results! She tries again. She takes out her prop. A bandana she has been using as her face mask.

“I mean, it’s just so ridiculous. This isolation, not being able to go out to the movies, the mall, theater, **opera**.”

She pauses, he’s still ignoring her. He has gotten really good at drowning her out, or he’s deaf. He is **old** , like he is what 45? 50? **Old**. She pretty sure that's why she likes him. She’s always favored old stories, heroes, so of course, being attracted to someone who has a soul that **screams** , “I’m ten million kajillion years old,” she **would** be all about **that**.

“And do not even get me started about the mask.”

His hand pauses, just for the briefest of moments, before he carries on.

“This is just so terrible! You do not even **know**.” She puts the mask on and whines.

“I cannot even breathe! It’s just the worst.” Her voice is muffled, from the mask.

He is getting angry, she can tell. The aura around him is growing warmer and she swears she can see electricity start to build, start to spark from him. He carries, exudes, and builds dark energy.

“I mean, it rubs my face raw, I swear I’ll get sores, it makes my face just so unbearable to look at! I feel like a circus freak!” She holds her face in mock horror and pain.

He drops his pen. He does not look at her, acknowledge her.

“I can’t wear my sunglasses; they just fog up. I’m running blind!” She shakes her hands in a rueful manner.

“It’s just not fair!” She cries, she slides out of the chair and onto the floor. She crosses her arms and pouts. She kicks her legs like a petulant child.

“I stayed at the hotel that you purchased last year for that investment that Jules told you about. The room service runner refused to give me a wine glass! I paid what, 60 or 70 euros for wine, and they expected me to drink from a solo cup! And then they forced me to wear mask while I answered the door! The nerve! Peasants! Do they not know who I am?”

She looks over, he is trying so hard not to respond.

“My life is such a struggle these days. It’s a cruel fate. It’s like I’m a leper, forced to hide in the shadows, drink wine from plastic cups, nothing to entertain myself with, and everyone just keeps talking about deaths, and testing, and oh boo, I can’t pay rent so now I’m living out on the street. As if they **know** hardship! I live in a **crypt** and have **no wifi!”**

 **“Marguerite**.” His voice soft, dangerous, a warning. It sends her terrible thrills and chills. She turns her head to his direction.

“Yes, Mr. Opera Ghost?” Her voice is very sweet and innocent. She lowers the mask, she tries to look coy.

“I’ve neglected you.” He is still not facing her, but his voice draws her to him, she cannot help but walk over like the ever-obedient pet.

“Just a little. I mean, even Hades took the day off to be with Persephone.”

“What do you want, my vexing pet?” His voice is melodic, inviting, a sweet song, but she knows he is just beyond with her. If she were anyone else, the violence would be quite horrific. But she’s his Marguerite, so she gets away with a lot.

“Well, there is this one thing, I would really like to do, we haven’t done in a while.” She says innocently.

“And what would that be?”

“Play Ghost! Haunt the Opera!”

He says nothing. Meg plays with something in the pocket of her dress.

“I just so happen to have these sticks and I thought that O.G could you, know, maybe throw them at a certain soprano?”

“You want me to throw sticks at Carlotta.”

“It would be pretty funny.”

Meg waits for it.

“I thought you came here for affection and **copulation**.”

Meg’s face turns red. She grabs onto his shoulders.

“Yes, let’s do that, much better idea. That’s why you’re the idea man.”

He slides everything off of the desk and Meg eagerly jumps onto the surface.

“Yes, this is much better. . . “

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I work for a hotel and my government put a temporary law into effect that all hotels that offer room service must use to go boxes and utensils, as a safety precaution to protect workers and guests. We can deliver your 50-200 dollar bottle of wine, but not send you wine glasses.(have had the, I paid SO much money for this, how dare you make me use plastic cups, conversation.) How does that make sense? Also, no one wears masks when they answer the door--rude.


	9. Sleep to Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nadir sleepwalks to his death. the khanum is amused, Erik is not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song for the chapter, You, Keaton Henson.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZxQLNxFA1Mg

**_"If you must leave,_ **   
**_Leave as though fire burns under your feet_ **   
**_If you must speak,_ **   
**_Speak every word as though it were unique_ **   
**_If you must die, sweetheart_ **   
**_Die knowing your life was my life's best part"  
_**

**_You, Keaton Henson_ **

* * *

Something calls him from the ether. He feels a strange pang, something guides him along on an invisible string. He leaves his bedroom, and goes into Reza's room, he walks over to the bed and peers down at him. He is unmoving. The small child, no sound from those lips, he is pale, marble, of stone in the moonlight. Nadir reaches out and then his hand lowers, but he dares not. He brings his hand away. He looks to the window, to the sky, trying to spy heaven, his soul. He is with the stars now.

He hears the voice in his head, and he knows what he must do. He doesn’t think, his body, his mind has the memory and the map, so he just moves along to the natural pull. He does not hear or see the others of the world; they simply do not exist.

He knows where he needs to be, and he finds it.

“This is unexpected.” He does not hear her or see her. He begins to disrobe, and he ignores her curiosity, and her teasing. He takes off his shoes and walks into the hall or mirrors.

He does not hear voices call out to him, some in rage, in love, others, in hate, in pride. Nadir is beyond them all. He does not flinch. Nothing can hurt him now.

He walks forward until he collapses. He falls to his knees and he prays for the last time. He waits for it to be over, to succumb to the madness and death. He can smell the dried blood; it is like rust onto his tongue and it assaults his senses.

He has nothing left. Nothing to lose. He does not care. He imagines the darkness around him, wrap around his body, swallow him, take him to some dark wherever.

Maybe there will be a river, a man waiting to take him to heaven, she will be at the gates, or maybe a grand garden, they will have tea, Reza will be grown, handsome, he will have been that comedy man he had wanted to be.

“Your lives were my life’s best part.” He says to them. He reaches out to touch her, but as his fingertips make the slightest of touches, a great wind comes, and she is slowly carried as she becomes dust. Reza is a broken statue overrun by ivy and earth.

He is left alone, the sun goes down, the garden is filled with weeds, the flower and plants wither and die as some great plague sweeps through, he can see movement in the corner of his eyes, a scorpion.

He has nothing left. His foundations were nothing but salt and sand.

_This is goodbye this is the end._

Nadir waits for the scorpion’s kiss.

Something strikes his temple and Nadir welcomes final the curtain call.

\--

* * *

“What’s wrong with Papa, Darius?”

“He’s tired, why don’t you go practice your comedy, I’ll send for you when he wakes up.”

Reza pouts, but he follows Darius suggestion and goes off. Nadir’s eyes start to flutter, he blinks rapidly and then he opens his eyes. He is in pain and his vision is awkward.

Darius is his bedside looking both smug and angry.

“What did I tell you?”

Nadir says nothing, still confused.

“You go off in the middle of the night, leave no message, do not tell anyone where you are going, only to go to the khanum of all people!”

Darius shakes his head. He presses something cold and wet onto Nadir’s head.

“I did not believe it myself, but I told you, I warned you.”

Nadir is trying to piece the previous events together; they were a dream to him. He sleepwalked to, to **her**.

“Erik and the khanum we’re doing the things of which we do not speak in this house, bless Reza. And Erik tells me, _you take off your clothing_ and then you walk into the mirrors of death!"

“I vaguely remember that, but not Erik being there.”

“Vaguely remember? Do you remember that she sent guards after you to make sure you did indeed die? About twenty I think. She's apparently _very jealou_ s of you. You're lucky she has too much pride to actively act out against you. Outside of course, sending guards to make sure you die."

“I am not dead.” Nadir says, he looks down at his body. He touches his body looks back to Darius.

“ _Erik killed them all like I told you he would_! Do you know much blood I had to clean? Still must clean? It was like a _flood_!”

Nadir feels his cheeks burn.

“So much blood! I had to tell Reza is was paint and clay. I’m still in the process of cleaning it off the floor, and I didn’t even try to _wash_ his clothing, I _burned_ them.”

“Where **_is_** Erik?” Nadir’s voice is small, like a scared child, afraid of the punishment that awaits.

“In my room. I had to give him all your opium to bring him down! He was in such a _rage_. I couldn’t let Reza see him like that, and _you_ were _unconscious_ so you couldn’t do your magic.”

“It’s his **_knees_** , if you touch the underside of his knees in this certain spot, he is immediately spent and is incapacitated for a few minutes. It is the only way I can get to sleep. He’s _**insatiable**_ , it’s quite annoying.”

“Now I know for next time.”

“Tell me, is he very annoyed?”

“Yes, I would say so.”

Nadir pulls the covers up to his chin.

“Could you lock my door?”

“I have to finish cleaning the blood.” Darius stands up.

“But you could, lock my door?”

Darius says nothing as he leaves the room.

“Reza, we’re going to the gardens!” Darius calls and Nadir can hear Reza’s excitement and the slamming of the door.

“Darrius!”

Nadir looks at the doorway in fear as he pulls the covers over his head. After a few minutes, Nadir feels brave, he pulls the cover back and lets a scream. Erik, his mask stained with blood, is inches above his face.

 _“Hello, lover.”_ His tone confuses Nadir. He sounds angry _and_ _lustful_.

“Blood is your color.” Nadir tries to pull the covers over his head, the false fairly tale logic that monsters cannot know you if you are concealed. However, Erik has his hands on the blanket, prevents such measures.

“You’re annoyed.” Nadir tries to fill the voice and spaces with small talk, talking means things cannot happen.

“This is what’s going to happen. We’re going to do all the _fun_ and _wonderful_ things I _like—”_

“The stuff that makes me uncomfortable?” Nadir cuts off alarmed. There are certain dark fantasies that Erik finds _absolutely pleasurable_ that Nadir just does not understand, but will indulge in, _occasionally_. 

This is why Nadir enjoys his joint custody with the khanum, she _embraces and indulges_ all his sordid erotic nightmares of sexual pleasure that goes beyond measure, so Nadir doesn't have to, and Nadir gets the sweet romantic stuff, the cuddles, lying in each other's arms, etc. It's a partnership, albeit, Nadir is the only one who is aware of it.

“And then if your performance is _satisfactory_ , consider yourself forgiven. If not, I’ll think of something more creative as a punishment and it will not be as fun, for _you_.”

Erik cups Nadir's cheek, and gently caresses his lover.

Nadir nods.

Then his affect changes, Nadir can tell, without having to see the other man.

“I love you.” He says, his voice giving away his vulnerability.

"I love you beyond measure." Nadir says.

Erik rests his head against Nadir.

"It's not a competition." Erik's voice is muffled against Nadir.

"Does this mean, we can just lay in each other's arms? This is nice. I like this." Nadir is hopeful.

" **No**."

Erik recovers and Nadir sighs. It's going to be a long night and he is in no position for that knee trick. 


	10. The khanum Cries Havoc and Let Slips the Dogs of War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The khanum has a test for Nadir. Will he pass or fail?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These the masks I was looking at for Erik to wear in my mind  
> https://i.pinimg.com/originals/8e/70/95/8e70958e4c0c70d682d4ba4431bf07e9.jpg  
> http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4QQluZk-4J8/VUSe25DhykI/AAAAAAAAB8w/XVRte5C2DG0/s1600/Volto%2BBi-Color%2BVenetian%2BMasquerade%2BMask.jpg  
> https://files.kleinanzeigen.de/inserate_bilder/50056/50056154/Events-Meetings-Incentive-Reisen-fuer-Gruppen-und-Firmen-b_LYAONHyIYjtWABXSAnoF7vLPfEQ8VPP2KVDQP9b6vnI.jpg
> 
> https://assets.lasirena.la/export/sites/debate/img/2018/02/12/carnival-2999783_1920.jpg_636437766.jpg  
> http://cdn6.bigcommerce.com/s-sh9b3e/products/857/images/2592/V14_b__85871.1419368273.1280.1280.jpg?c=2
> 
> https://i.pinimg.com/originals/44/46/87/444687c73d4f4b5d0bfe574b0387dd87.jpg

* * *

* * *

* * *

**_Iran, 1989_ **

* * *

“You’re going to love this, my friend.” Darius is wearing his very official Palacey outfit.

“The village near the Palace has a McDonald’s?”

“You’ve been called to court.”

“I have to appear to court for my official duties every other day. Why’s that special.”

“A _private_ meeting.” Darius’s eyes twinkle mischievously.

“Oh. Can we decline the invitation? Like send something, “we regretfully, respectfully must refuse your request due to prior commitments, thank you, your most obedient daroga.”

Darius shakes his head and is smile grows smugger.

“What’s this, “we,” business. She requested _you_ , _alone_.”

Nadir sucks in air and his body becomes hot melted jelly. Darius nods and _loves_ being the messenger sometimes.

“I have so much I need to finish before the day is over.”

“Such as?”

“Reza needs someone to test his jokes.”

“He does that with the kitchen staff.”

“I have to finish cleaning the blood off the floor and carpet, the sheets,” Nadir trails off.

Darius waves his hand. Darius is still loving the, “I told you,” of that night.

“I called a professional, they will arrive shortly.”

“Food shopping at the market.”

“You have someone who does that, and they already unpacked the groceries.”

“I need to de-weed the garden.”

“Erik did that yesterday.”

“Prune the flowers,”

“Erik did everything plant related, yesterday.”

“I need to clean out my closet and prepare for the season,”

“Erik and I already did that. Your new wardrobe is pressed, cleaned. And very bright and _theatrical_. You have a _bedazzled_ cape. I cannot wait for you to wear that. In public. With people. And the tourists, with cameras.”

Nadir wants to vomit. A cape. No, not just a cape, but a bedazzled, sparkly cape? He is not a magician from the 1930s, he does not do vaudeville or the circus, please and no thanks.

“I have no need for that.” Nadir will set that to fire and intends to.

“Actually,” Darius puts his hand to his chin mocking thought,” I think Erik purchased that for you, for _him_.”

He is definitely setting it on fire.

“I hate everything you just said.”

“I love everything I just said.”

Nadir grabs a pillow and tries to suffocate himself. Darius takes he pillow, and gives Nadir, the, “no, bad boy,” finger point of discipline.

“I’m going through my midlife crisis and need to buy my boat . . . s.”

“You don’t turn 40 until next week.”

“See? I’m preparing.”

Darius gives him The Look. The arms are not crossed yet, so he still has some stall left.

“I need to embarrass myself by finding a lover that’s half my age and disgust the villagers with my obvious insecurities and vulgar display until I am ashamed and become a lonely hermit.”

“You're doing that **now**.”

Nadir shakes his head.

“Most of the time people and the tourists just want to take **_his_** pictures, his masks are very **elaborate** and _bejeweled to death_ now that khanum doubled his pensions for his services and **_services_**.” Nadir frowns and bites back the poison of jealousy that wants to wrap about his neck and heart.

“And it doesn’t help that khanum has updated his wardrobe and he wears fine silks and those _faaaawncy_ robes. My favorite is the blue. It has rubies on the edges and hem. Rubies. Who the hell needs to put shiny colored **rocks** on their clothing? The rich are weird, my friend.” Nadir nods in agreement. They are indeed.

“He loves the hoods that come with them; they add to the mystery and accent his **_faaaaaawncy_** masks.”

“Nadir, I know what you’re doing, and I am taking you to your court appointment.”

“But, I have so much left to do.”

Darius crosses his arms. Nadir curses him and gets himself ready.

Darius lead him Nadir as far as he could.

“I feel like I’m going into a torture chamber with Darth Vader. If she does anything with her hands, I’m going to **run** for it.”

“You’ll be fine.” Darius touches his arm reassuringly.

Darius smiles

“ ** _Captain_** _**Needa** ,”_ khanum’s private guards, grab Nadir and lead him forward.

“ ** _He dies! Darius, he dies_**! _Why would you say that to me_! If I die, I am leaving everything to my ghost! **_I will haunt your bathroom_** ,” his voice fades away the further he gets out.

“Worth it.” Darius salutes his friend’s figure before turning and going on his adventures.

* * *

When the khanum said she wanted a private meeting, she meant a _private_ meeting. Her handmaidens, her guards, all her human shaped toys and pets are ordered to leave.

Nadir did not keep his eyes off her hands. He kept his own at his throat, and collar of his shirt, if this is the day he dies . .

Nadir has never been alone with her, or the shah before. The court is always full of witnesses, and now he had none.

_At least there are no damn cats._

“Do you know why I requested this meeting?”

Nadir eyes are still on her hands, those fingers, any sign of them coming together.

“Daroga, I asked you a question.”

“No, I do not, is there a problem that you would like me to address? Someone to collect for you. I heard rumors of a new—”

“No, no one to collect, I have something else in mind. You are not the **_young_** officer you once were. I can see it in your work, and how you stand now. “

“My age does not interfere or have influence with my duties to you or the shah.” He bows his lead, trying to keep things friendly as they can. He never remembers how to speak to these people, once he is their presence.

“Your age is **advanced.** Muscles atrophy, endurances and stamina will only continue to deteriorate and limit what little threshold of what you have left that you can endure, this is not a, what is the turn of phrase, walk in the garden, post. I need someone **strong** , someone **capable** , someone **_young_**.” Her eyes shine, and her lips form a most sadist smile.

Nadir holds onto his collar, in case.

“However, if you could, say, prove otherwise to me and the shah that our fears are misguided, then of course, your position will be secured."

“What do you require of me?”

She smiles, and Nadir feels his soul punch his heart and fight his kidneys.

Her guards reappear and they grab onto Nadir and is pulled along into another room.

He finds Darius there.

“What’s happening?” Darius asks

“She thinks we’re **old**.”

“You **are** old.”

“You are **_only two years younger than me.”_**

Their attentions are quickly drawn to a table.

“Pick your weapon.”

The weapons include a rubber chicken, a scarf, and a worn hat.

“Chicken.”

“Hat.”

Weapons chosen and wielded. They are led to an open arena. It was built in the same idea as a Roman Gladiator thunder dome. Open, oval, thousands of eager blood lustful parasites await their deadly opera.

“So, we’re like the Roman slaves now?”

“Are you not entertained?”

“Oh, shut up, Darius.”

Gates on all sides of the outdoor arena lift and several dozens of men, properly armed with weapons, like swords, maces, guns all run forward.

“Nadir, I have a feeling that these may be men you’ve put away in your tenure of chief of police, before,”

They ready their own weapons.

“Uh huh.”

“I’m going to go with, this is more than you being old. She **really** wants you **_dead_**.”

“I can see that.”

They both split off into different directions. Darius’s uses the hat to blind one, high kicks another in the face, the guy who’s he using the hat on is punched, he grabs his chin and throws him on the ground, with momentum, he round flips over him and elbows the next two who come at him.

Nadir is being chased by four, he runs, jumps, and grabs onto the edge of the arena, kicks out at one, they are thrown backwards into another armed thug. Nadir pushes off and dives into the chest of one and uses him to grab and knock out the guy behind him, he remembers the chicken, and waves the one reaming standing to come and get him.

The former prisoner charges in a rage, Nadir waits, ducks and spins, and he extends the rubber chicken, and he uses it to grab the man by the throat and spins him, flips him around and then punches his face until he’s unconscious.

While he is bent over, Darius runs and uses Nadir as a vault and knocks two others onto the ground. The audience is loving their performance. Many are standing, shouting, jeering and chanting. They want more, more, more. Darius and Nadir are becoming the heroes of this bloody tragedy.

The Khanum is not amused, she signals to her guards. Her palms bleed from her nails. She is flushed from her **_hatred_** ; she finds no pleasure here.

“Still feel old?” Darius and Nadir are circling around each other, back to back, looking for an opening, for an assailant.

“It’s like we’re ten again and someone stole our cut.”

“Hard to fight someone who doesn’t come up beyond your knees.”

Two guards appear and they are holding on a young scared and confused child. They throw him into the fray of violence and the guards leave and the gates shut.

“Message received, _bitch_.” Darius and Nadir narrow their eyes, getting serious now.

“The boy is Reza and everyone else is khanum.” Darius nods.

“Oh, this is going to be better than, something fun good.”

Darius throws the hat like a frisbee at one of the thugs who is about to strike the child, he catches the hat in confusion, this lets the kid to crawl, scramble away on the ground.

He meets a dead end, spins around and his grabbed by the fabric of his robes. Nadir taps the thug’s shoulder, he makes a move to punch him, but knees his groin, forces him to bend, moves around in a circle and kicks the other side of his knees as hard as he can, guy goes down in pain, Nadir grabs the kid’s hand and they run.

Darius flips a man, holds onto him, as he cartwheels and lands on the pitiful creature, picks him and uses him a shield and the throws him into the thug who has Nadir cornered.

“ ** _MORE, MORE, MORE.”_** Cry the happy spectators. The khanum has had enough. This will not do. She nods at her guards. She stands up.

“I stand corrected, you are more than capable of what I need in my daroga.” She leaves with her handmaidens and human pets.

The gates open, and Nadir and Darius, with kid in the middle, just in case, walk cautiously to the gates.

“I don’t think this is the end. I’m fairly sure she will try something else.”

**“ _I need opium_.”**

“Wow, you **are** rattled. You never use unless you are **devastated**.”

“She showed me that **will** harm Reza.”

“What are we going to do about it?”

“ ** _War_**.” Nadir hisses through his teeth.

“Awaiting orders, sir.” He salutes Nadir.

They head off to get cleaned up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do no good at the action scenes
> 
> it should sound like  
> fa aaaaahn cey
> 
> or fawncy  
> Songs that I played while writing this:"  
> mr brightside  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LsHC8Hwnh30  
> Less cute  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8aTETyT0BcA  
> go getter greg  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AeZEjU0nZeo


	11. I'm A Salad Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reference:  
> (A little be alexis)  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0kF5zJIbn5U  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IKoxky2h2qc)
> 
> (Rapping with food)  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lHue3INUPs0  
> (never gonna get it)  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JIuYQ_4TcXg

* * *

“Carlotta thinks her dressing room is haunted,” Christine says she puts on her costume.

“Really?” Meg says, she starts her makeup.

“Says that **sticks** are being **thrown** at her.”

“Sticks?”

“Who hides in someone’s dressing room and throws things at them?”

“I mean, _you’ve met her.”_

“It’s an odd thing to do.”

“There are worse things than having sticks launch at you by mad physics.”

“If she doesn’t perform, **I** have to, and I don’t want to.” Christine pouts.

“Why?

“Don’t you ever come into work and just don’t want to? I mean, she **_is_** the **lead** , let me the **salad** tonight, I do not want to be the fancy steak. “

“Salads are good, the other day I went out and they gave me this shrimp salad. It was so **adorable** , Christine, they were like so tiny and I couldn’t even. My date ended up leaving, said I was petting my food. I wasn’t petting, I was **appreciating** its sacrifice.”

Christine smiles.

“I **_sing_ **to my food.”

“ _Turkey, lettuce, bacon, cheese, gonna have a threesome with me!”_

“That would be a **foursome** right? If you included yourself.”

_“Turkey, lettuce, bacon, cheese, gonna have a foursesome with thee! Never gonna regret it, never gonna regret it!”_

“Yes. I get kicked out of cafes, I sing too loud.”

“Okay, do you beat box it? I do that sometimes.”

Christine nods.

Reyer comes into the dressing room, his hands cover his eyes

“Christine, Carlotta is refusing to perform, you’re taking her place.”

Christine falls to the floor and lays down.

“I can’t wait to dieeeeeeeeeee.” She shakes hands and legs.

“You are welcome die after tonight’s performance.” He leaves, holding his arm out while he walks away blind.

“He knows we have a unisex dressing room, right?”

Christine shrugs.

“I don’t wanna.”

“You’ve got to.”

Meg pulls at her arms, Christine refuses to get up.

“No!”

“Yes!”

“No!”

“Think of all the fun we’re going to have!”

“No! I don’t want to! I didn’t rest my voice, I had ice cream, coffee, so much coffee, and I smoked! I smoke now. So, I cannot possibly.”

“If you perform, I’ll change up my ballet and do the Alexis Rose dance.”

“You’d purposely screw up the ballet for me?”

“Who watches the ballet? That’ s when people go to the bathroom.”

“Okay, fine, but you have to do it all.”

“Deal, now let’s go, Kobe beef, salad is off the menu.”


	12. Nadir Saves Persia

Nadir stands before the shah, not sure what to expect this time.

“What do they think of us?” He asks, Nadir is taken aback.

“Who are you referring to?”

“Our foreign friends, the diplomats, what do they truly think of us?”

Nadir is not sure how to answer the question.

“They know what they are shown, and that’s what they take with them, shadow of god,”

The shah does not like this answer, he frowns. He pets his cat, with a strange distant longing etched onto his face.

“What they are shown. They don’t know the real Persia, do they?”

“I would say not.”

“They think this,” he gestures around him,” if what we are.”

“I would—this palace is not the best representation of our culture, our home.”

“No, I would have to agree. I need to break away from certain influences, don’t I?”

“I would never dare to tell you what you should do.”

“Speak freely, Nadir is it?”

Nadir nods.

“She doesn’t help matters, no. Her passions and interests are loud. In more ways than one.”

“I love Persia.”

“I do too.”

“I want people to know how beautiful this land is.”

“They should.”

“Khanum isn’t making it easy. I think I need to break away from her. I need a new chief adviser; someone I can trust.”

“That would be a start. The more the people can see how we truly live, care for each other, our true art and culture, there would be more of an understanding. We would be able to approach Westerners and others, ignorance undoes many things.”

“I agree, chief adviser”

“Me? Are you—"

“Yes. I think this what I should have done from the beginning. You are now my chief adviser, all matters that concern Persia, and our relations with outsiders, I will go to you for guidance.”

“I-“

“You’ve traveled, you speak multiple languages. You care about people; you have a moral compass that is unyielding. I need that.”

“I _understand_ different languages, my fluency is—”

“You are intelligent and will learn. I will have you moved to a proper lodging, your son is ill, is he not? I will see to it that he receives the best medical care. I will have a medical staff moved into your home. Your pension will also double. Anything else?”

“I want a pet dog.”

Nadir is not sure where that came from, but he could not help himself.

\--

* * *

“Who is the new daroga then?” Darius asks, as he sets plates down for dinner.

“I don’t know.”

“We’re getting a puppy?!”

“Reza, not now, and this pension, how much more did he say?”

“He said double.”

“A puppy! What kind of puppy? Can I name it? I want to take it out on walks, and he'd join me in my comedy.”

“Name him whatever you like, Reza.”

“Please name it Erik.”

“Darius.”

“Ooooh! I will!”

“Reza, you may want to—”

“Nadir! Let your son name his own pet.”

“Yes, Papa!”

Nadir seeing that he has lost, accepts defeat. He finishes setting food out onto the table. Darius swats Reza’s hands away, and they pray. Once they have finished Reza jumps up and he begins to stuff food onto his plate.

“Why can’t he be like Erik, and you have to **force** him to just take the smallest amount?” Nadir shakes his head.

“Erik never eats anything you “force” him to.”

“Reza, this isn’t a race, calm and pace yourself.” Reza smiles, mouthful of food, he swallows and the chews slowly pointedly.

“Never change, Reza.”

\--

* * *

“Chief Advisor to the shah.”

“Yes, it is a position of power, your **_lust_** is appropriate.”

“That obvious?”

“You’re **_drooling_** on me.” Nadir uses a sheet and wipes his face.

“Do you get any special favors?” Erik rolled over to his. Fantasizes all the wonderous things he could be sharing.

“Yes, I agreed to marry the shah’s cousin, and we’re to leave on the honeymoon, as you would say, tomorrow, and I’m afraid he asked that I remain a monogamous husband, as with Rookheya. Also, get a dog.”

“You’re getting a dog?

“Reza has already named the creature.”

“What name did he decide.”

“It is going to be called **Erik**. Darius and I have already written down many puns and innuendos, that we cannot wait to use.”

“Look forward to that.”

“A medical staff moves in tomorrow, for Reza.”

“Good.”

“I may have to kill your girlfriend.”

Erik takes intertest, and he turns over, props himself on his elbow.

“She made it clear to me where we stood and whose son she Is willing to kill.”

“She, what?”

“Were you not there when Darius and I were used as Roman Gladiators?"

He shakes his head.

“Ah, perhaps you were sent away, made to be distracted.”

“I suppose, but she really threatened Reza?”

“Are you **_surprised_**?

“No.”

“She’s convinced she conceals her emotions and opinions. She is more transparent than, than, something very transparent.”

Nadir can tell that he is getting looks and eyebrows being raised. Sometimes Nadir loves that Erik wears the masks all the time, for all occasions, such as now, when they are together alone, when Nadir says something stupid, like just now. 

“I had a long day and speaking in French takes a lot out of me. I feel like something is trying to fight my tongue and I’m losing.”

“Speak Farsi then, you know I’m fluent.”

“Yes, but it annoys me how well you speak it.”

“So, speaking a language that causes you physical pain, because you’re too annoyed with me?”

“It’s not right that you speak it better than most Persians.”

“They have every opportunity to learn how to speak properly. That’s not my fault.”

Nadir ignores Erik’s flirtatious touches and focuses on the ceiling.

“I read in some books that Westerners, ah, your people, have mirrors in odd places, the ceiling in bedrooms above the bed.”

Erik laughs, which stops the touches, until he composes himself.

“I’ve never had a mirror placed **there**.”

“So its not a thing?”

“I don’t know everyone’s thing. It is not mine.”

“Why?”

“That’s it’s not my thing?”

“Erik.”

“Sex. It is to see yourself fuck and what, well you look like, it is another way to masturbate, essentially. Or to take notes.”

This disgust Nadir. He shakes his head.

“No. I would never want that. I hate that you see my face when we copulate.”

Erik sighs happily

“I love when you say fancy words for fuck.”

“I would say make love, but you get weird.”

“Sex is separate from love.”

“True.”

“You’ve been away a long time, so we can just sleep tonight.”

“You’re chatty, which means something is wrong.”

“If I’m a threat to the khanum, how can I trust **_you_**?”

“That’s not why you shouldn’t trust me, and I **_hate_** the bitch, so you don’t have anything to worry about.”

“I think she may be jealous, and I don’t think she can handle that without copious amounts of blood.”

“Usually by my hand or inventions, if she orders me to kill you, I’ll kill **_her_**.”

“I can’t have Reza be—"

“I swear to you, I won’t let anything happen.”

“How can you—”

“I’m me. I promise, he’ll be safe.”

“I’ll need protection I think, at those court entertainments, they may actively try to poison me now, which is almost exciting.”

“I’ll figure something out, no dying, you.”

“That's how I know I'm doing my job right."

"And my job is to make sure they fail."

Nadir sighs and he closes his eyes, trying to find peace in sleep. Erik settles and they remain in each others arms


	13. Marie checks in

Marie has been ill the last two days, which means that she has not visited Madeleine. Her head is filled with rocks, cobwebs choke her throat, and she is sitting on hot coals and an iceberg.

“Look at that! Another stray. How distasteful, this village does not need any more fifth.”

Marie hears her mother say, and this causes Marie to sit up. Something inside her tells her to get up, to go over to her window. She finds the strength needed to do this.

She draws back the heavy curtains. The stray in question is Sasha. Marie knows it is Sasha, and sighs. Sasha calling for Marie is not a good sign.

“I hope it’s not the kitchen. I swear if she burned down the kitchen, I’ll beat her with the wooden spoon.” Marie takes her time in getting ready.

She ignores the protests of her parents as she leaves the house, walks down the path and greets Sasha.

“Well, you called, and I am here.”

Sasha hrroughs.

“Well, what is It this time? What am I walking into? Is it the kitchen?”

Sasha moves her head to the left.

“No? Has Erik been sneaking out at night again? I told her that she might as well just accept it. He cannot be caged.”

Sasha nods.

“So, it’s about him sneaking out?”

Sasha moves her head to the right

“No? Hm. I suppose it’s best if we just get to it.”

Sasha gets up on all fours and trots back to her house, Marie keeping pace with her.

Marie enters the house, Sasha, her task complete runs off to find Erik.

“Hello?”

“Marie?”

“Madeleine, what’s going on? What are you doing?”

Madeleine is pacing and running amuck in the living room. She thrusts papers, designs into Marie’s face.

“Okay, and?”

“Look! Look!”

“These are deigns for buildings, why am I to take offense?”

“He designed them! This is not the work of a child!”

“Oh, you! You are such a terror!”

“I’m a terror?”

“Yes! Who cares how well he can draw a building!”

“No child at his age should be able to do this!”

“How old was Mozart when he composed?”

“This is hardly the same—"

“I think it is.”

“Marie,”

“Are you jealous?”

“J-Jealous?”

“He sings better than you, plays better than you, understands maths you do not.”

“I am not jealous of that- “

“Of your **_son_**.”

“He should want to play in the garden, making mudpies, not these!” She shakes the deigns she has in her hands.

“You have a brilliant child; most parents would be proud.”

“It’s not natural!”

“You are so dramatic. This is where he gets it, you.”

“I am not dramatic, and he does not get—”

“Listen to yourself! You have your own temper tantrums; it is where he learned it! You have no control of your emotions. You look for any excuse to beat him.”

“I do not.”

“Yes, you do.”

Madeleine is silent.

“That’s why you don’t get along, you're practically the same person.”

Madeleine cannot bring herself to speak any further. Her face changes several colors, and she crumples up the deigns in her hands. Marie removes before she can rip them.

“If you just shut up for ten minutes and listened to Erik, I think you’d find that he’s pleasant company.”

‘Perhaps.”

“if I can like him, you can.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Of course it is, you’re just spoiled and want someone to do all the hard work.”

“You are cruel.”

“You are a cruel mother. I beg of you, have one conversation where you do not threaten him, where it is peaceful. He will respond in kind. I promise you.”

“I suppose I can do this.”

“Good. I’ll take Sasha and you will have the house to yourselves for a few minutes.”

“Why do you need Sasha?”

“It gives you more freedom, having both parents away.”

Marie leaves Madeleine before she can work out what she had just said.


	14. Nadir and Erik Are Not Friends.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik doesn't want Nadir to be his friend.

* * *

* * *

The boat has a hole in it. Like, he seriously took something to create a hole in the damn boat. Nadir rubs his face and tries not to pull the hair from his beard.

He and Erik may have had a **_heated_** discussion, but the response to it should be a mature conversation.

_“What are your intentions with the Daae girl?”_

Nadir isn’t even jealous, they parted ways years ago, and their past is just that. It is a reasonable question. Erik is clearly not in a fit mental state, the young girl does not need that. It’s not fair to either of them.

_“Not your business.”_

_“It becomes my business when you threaten and murder others, Erik. What are you planning for her? Is she even reciprocating your romantic feelings? Does she want to be with you?”_

_“Erik doesn’t owe you anything or have to answer the daroga’s questions!”_

_“I’m concerned now that Erik is speaking in third person, are you separating yourself? That is not good, my old friend.”_

_Instead of a verbal response this causes the young man to spiral in a fit of mad laughter, so much so, it overtakes him, he ends up losing control of his body, he writhes on the floor, unaware of the world that surrounds him._

_Nadir waited for it to subside, he tried to coax Erik back to lucidity, but no avail. Nadir left him a glass of water, a pillow under his head, and a note apologizing for his departure._

And so here we are. Nadir is at the lake, with a boat that is useless. Nadir can swim, and he also knows how to repair a boat.

This will buy Erik time, for sure, whatever he wants or is planning, this will certainly buy him time.

He is clever.

Annoying.

Beyond vexing.

Nadir used to be in love this man.

He shakes his head. He rolls up the sleeves of his shirt, puts down his tool kit and sits down by the boat.

“He knows this wouldn’t stop me,” Nadir sighs, as he turns the boat over to the angle and position, he needs.

“Move, my friend.” Darius, sits down and takes over.

“I can do this, you know.”

“Your hands are dainty, I got this.”

Nadir glares and hits him with his shoulder, failing at getting Darius to budge over.

“My hands are calloused and rough!”

“You’ve been in the court too long for your hands to see real work, and then you come here and stalk a ghost.”

“My hands were used when we were in prison!”

“Then you used that fancy oil concoction Erik told you about, made your hands all dainty again.”

“My hands are man hands!”

“I never said they weren’t man hands, I said they were dainty, delicate. Let the rough hands do the work, they know how.”

Nadir glares at his man servant/best friend.

It was going to be a long afternoon.

\--

They argued the entire boat ride, and even when they reached the house on the lake, they continue to argue when they walked through Erik’s domestic.

“I was not sick! I just needed to catch my breath, I was doing all the work,” Nadir argues.

“You were delirious!”

“What’s this? Daroga brought his man servant.” Erik is annoyed, and he throws random objects at the two, who duck, dodge, and avoid.

“Erik, you look terrible. Did you lose weight? How is that even possible. I’m going to make you dinner.” Darius does not wait for a response.

“Erik is not hungry! You will leave my home!”

“Erik will remember the rules of hospitality and etiquette, after all he is French, and they take pride in such things,” Darius says with a smile and twinkle in his eye.

Erik has no clever witticism. He shakes with quiet fury. Darius takes that as a win and rummages through cabinets, until he finds something resembling food products.

“You do look terrible, Erik.” Nadir takes a seat on an old armchair. Erik takes a seat opposite of him, and crosses his arms, he does not look at the other man.

“You knew I would come back. I am not letting this go, or letting you fall to ruin. This is ridiculous. Where is the Erik that loved to go to the market dressed for a Venetian Carnival? The Erik who loved to entertain people? My son? We got you out of Persia, so you keep that.”

“I know.” He still does not look at the other man in the eyes.

“What happened to you? Why do you live like you are already dead? I followed you for years, what happened? You were doing well with your architecture; you’ve had a lot of success.”

“I know.”

“Could it be that your brain is having an extremely negative reaction to the morphine and laudanum? I mean, you do consume copious amounts of both,”

Erik’s head snaps up, Nadir winces and feels pain for him.

“How?”

“I told you, I’ve been keeping an eye on you. You need to stop with that, Erik. It’s breaking your already fragile mind.”

“Erik—I need it. It calms the—it calms the storm.”

“At the expense of your sanity?”

“What sanity?”

“You were once, a bit sane. You need to stop with the drugs, Erik. It will be better for you.”

“I know what I’m doing,”

“I don’t agree.”

“I’m not asking you to! You do not get a say in what I do! You lost that right years ago! You let me go!”

Erik turns his head.

Ah. Subtext rapidly becoming text.

“I’m old, you’re young. I had to let you go, it would have been unfair to keep you.”

“You were the only one who cared about age difference. I was happy.”

Erik gets up and walks to the piano, he keeps his back turned to Nadir.

“So, this is because of that? How we parted ways?”

“You broke up with me and not only that, but I had to literally leave the country! You made it clear, we were never to see each other again, and then you show up? Act like nothing happened. That we were nothing? Hello, my **_friend_**?”

Nadir winces, that is true, he does address Erik as, “friend,” but what is he supposed to say, ex-lover, Ex-boyfriend, ex romantic lead?

“You’re right, we were more than friends. You were so much more than that.”

“Well, how am I supposed to know that?” Erik turns his head, before he spreads his arms wide. He sits down on the piano bench and begins playing a very angry, melancholy composition.

“I love you, but I honestly believed letting you go, and letting you go alone, was for the best.”

Erik ignores him and continues to play. Nadir sighs, he gets up and walks over to him. He presses some keys, to break Erik’s concentration, it works, he grabs Nadir’s hand.

“I didn’t want to be alone. I wanted to stay, or have you come with me.”

“You didn’t say anything.” Nadir says.

“I was being **_cool_**!” He stands up again, shaking his arms in exasperation and walks around in circles.

“What does that even mean!?” Nadir becoming equally exasperated.

“I didn’t want to look desperate, like I wanted you,”

“But you did want me?”

Erik nods.

“So, what was the point of, “being cool,” then?”

Erik shakes his head and turns away from his again.

“Erik.” Nadir’s head is spinning, getting lost in the conversation.

“If you asked me to stay, or asked to come with me,”

“I wanted you to stay, but I thought it was better for you to go.”

“You didn’t give me a choice! You made it for me,”

“They wanted to kill you, you needed to leave before that lie of Persia killed you.”

“I died anyway.”

“You are so dramatic! You look very much alive to me!” Nadir strides up to him, grabs Erik’s arm, checks for a pulse.

“There it is!” He shouts as he drops his wrist.

“Did you think of me at all?”

“Yes.”

Erik had not expected such a rapid response.

“You did?”

“Yes,”

“He wouldn’t shut up about you, my friend,” Darius pokes his head from around the corner.

“What is Erik doing, do you think Erik found someone, do you think Erik is taking care of himself,” Darius makes a motion with his hand, the, blah, blah, blah variety.

“Thank you, Darius,” Nadir says through his teeth.

“We both love you Erik, in different ways, of course.” Darius goes back to the kitchen.

“Can we start over, then?”

“Start over, what? You want to be my **_friend_**?” Erik snaps.

“No. I don’t want to be your **_friend_**.”

“Ah.”

They say nothing, do nothing. Nadir waits for Erik to make the first move.

“I can’t promise **_complete_** exclusivity,” Erik says slowly.

“Christine?”

Erik nods.

“I shared you with little Sultana,” Nadir reminds him.

“Yes, but I **_hated_** her, this isn’t hate fucking.”

“It didn’t matter then,” Nadir says.

“So?”

Nadir nods.

Erik nods, and nods, and then looks at his hands, and the Nadir. He makes a strange squeak sound with his throat. He walks towards Nadir, and then Darius pokes his head around the corner.

“Dinner for two at the ready. Remember, to use condoms, don’t forget about the lubricant, I left a new one by the bed, yes, I was able to go shopping while you two were twoing, you’re welcome, don’t be too rough with Nadir, he’s old, and his bones squeak,” Darius says all of this while gathering his things and bidding them adieu at the door.


	15. Okay, Maybe Some Thrall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There may be a tiny bit of thrall, that's all!

* * *

“What’s going on with you, Christine?” Raoul asks. He’s observed her odd behavior for a few days now.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Christine avoids looking at him as she speaks. He will not be deterred that easily, and walks in circles around her, he will not be denied or ignored.

“You have that look.” Raoul says. He gently reaches out to her neck and she stops moving.

“Look? What look?” Christine asks, innocent as ever.

“You’re **_enthralled_**.” He says, it almost sounds teasing, like he is amused, in a way he is. It is the romantic and purveyor of arts in him.

“Enthralled?” She looks at him. She has a faraway look in her starry eyes.

“That’s what I said.” Raoul says in a sing-song way, you know the way, the, I-told-you-so, I-know-you-re-full-of it- sing song way. They are children in the attic, and he will not give her back the doll until she appeases him.

“Enthralled,” she repeats, trying to match his playful tone. It does not.

“You’re under his Siren’s Song, I can tell. You always have this, dazed, drunk, confused way about you, after you return from him.” Raoul gestures to her affect, her body. Christine disagrees, badly.

“I’m not under any thrall or song. I’m distracted, that’s all.” Christine avoids his knowing gaze, she cannot lift her head to look at him, too heavy.

“You’re distracted all right, by **_him_**.” Raoul teases.

“No, I am not! I haven’t been to see him since, since,” Christine trails off, trying to remember.

“You’re not under his spell?” Raoul asks, his lips almost pouting.

She shakes her head, and he smiles and leans in.

“Then where are we, Christine? Where are we right now?” Raoul’s breath tickles her skin. She leans into him, wanting more.

He looks around, and Christine feels her cheek flush with heat. Her body stings, stunned by a serpent’s kiss. She looks around, and for the first time, she sees, she is in a dark place.

“Thrall!” He shouts and points at her. He is way too amused by this for Christine’s tastes. A little more sympathy would do him credit.

“How’d we get into the boat?” Christine does not remember any of this, or how she got here.

“A lot of nerve,” Raoul says. Christine tries to clear her head.

“Okay, so maybe there is some thrall.” Christine cheeks burn with embarrassment.

"Some thrall!" He spread his arms wide and they continue to walk the path to the house on the lake. Christine feels chills and stops.

"Perhaps we should return to the opera?" She turns back, the boat waits.

"I don't know, maybe he'll invite for us tea!" He runs ahead of her, Christine chases.

"He's not the type to host tea," Christine says, she tries to reach out to Raoul.

"We're here, might as well call upon him." 

"Fine, but if you get caught in another noose, it's on you to get yourself out."

He holds out a small knife.

"I came prepared!"

Christine smiles and places a hand to hide her face, playing shy and demure.

"After you, my lady," Raoul bows, steps back and let's Christine enter the monster's house ahead of him. She curtsies and walks into the darkness.

"Honey, we're home!" Raoul announces as he follows Christine.


	16. Marie Believes

“Then you have someone else sell the product, and if they have at least one other person,” Marie shakes her head and raises her tentatively, like she’s in school again.

Madeleine has been approached by someone to start selling a baking dish or pie or something, Marie is not entirely sure, and she is trying to explain the business to Erik and herself.

It’s not going well. Marie and Erik exchange confused glances.

“I don’t understand, why are you having someone else sell what you want to sell? How do you make money when they are selling for themselves?”

Madeleine opens her mouth to respond, she narrows her eyes, but gives pause.

“It’s how business works.” She says finally, she is annoyed because she doesn’t know what she’s saying and being questioned about it is making her feel silly and stupid.

“Mother, that sounds like a scam.”

Marie nods and rubs Erik’s arm.

“That does sound like you’re being scammed. I think you should just sell your own goods if you want to make some money.” Marie says gently.

“You do make enough to supply the army.” Erik says, he is without humor.

“Oh! I did not ask for your opinions! I was just telling you something I had wanted to try and now you have ruined it! The both of you go out of your way to make me miserable!”

Madeleine than wails and sits down dramatically into her seat at the table. She weeps into her hands. Sasha looks up from her spot by Erik and hurroughs before she lays her head back down and naps.

“You are such a child!” Marie chides. She wants to strangle the other woman. Madeleine says nothing.

“Oh, you! Erik, why don’t you go play or practice your music. Leave your silly mother with her misery of her own making!”

Erik doesn’t need to be told twice and leaves the kitchen happily, Sasha wakes up from her stupor and follows her favorite human/son.

“We could breed Sasha.” Madeleine suggests. Marie scoffs.

“You’re going to have that conversation with Erik?” Marie sure as hell isn’t having the sex talk with the boy. His mother blanches, and her cheeks burn.

“Maybe not.”

“Uh huh.”

Marie sits down at the table.

“You could rent a room, perhaps?” Marie says, she can see that being a possibility. Someone could always use a place lay their head at night.

“You think anyone would want to stay here? While He’s here?” Madeleine laughs darkly.

“Give it a try, maybe you’ll have someone, at least once, is better than nothing.”

“Fine, I’ll put an advert out. A room for rent”

\--

* * *

Madeleine honestly forgot about the room for rent advert, so when someone contacted her about it, she was in for a bit of a shock before she showed the gentleman the spare room.

Erik was not so happy about the situation. His possessiveness over his mother increased.

“A fortnight is all I need,” the man says. Madeleine is fine, if he pays. Erik wants him gone and makes it obvious.

“Let the man be, Erik. He’ll be gone soon enough. We need the money.” His mother says.

\--

* * *

The man thinks his room is haunted. Strange things happen: objects move or break on their own. He hears voices calling, screaming at him in the night.

His furniture is rearranged ever so slightly.

He rents the room for three nights before it is too much and he leaves. Sasha retrieves Marie before Madeleine can begin her violence.

\--

* * *

“You don’t know Erik did anything! He could have just been a nervous type!” Marie is standing in front of Erik, she will not let him be struck by the hurricane Maddie.

“I know he did! It screams his name!” She rushes forward, Marie pushes her back.

“You need to calm down! Sit in the corner!” Marie points to the armchair, she moved it to the corner, the naughty chair. Madeleine complies, she is not happy at all, but she complies.

Marie turns to Erik, and sweetly asks him, “ Erik, did you do anything to upset your mother’s tenant?”

He shakes his head.

“I did not, Marie.”

Marie believes him. Sasha does not. Marie kisses the top of his head and tells him he can have a sweet If he likes. Sasha gives Marie The Look.

“Oh, you! Not you too! I refuse to believe a seven-year-old can scare a man out of his wits like that!”

Sasha continues with The Look.

“He said he didn’t. I believe him.”

Still receiving the Look.

"Erik is a sweet misunderstood boy, he wouldn't hurt anyone on purpose."

Sasha turns and trots away. Marie shakes her head. Why does everyone always assume the worst out of that sweet little one? Just because of his horrid face? Marie will always think the best of him. 


	17. Small Sacrifices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nadir makes small sacrifices in the name of sleep.

* * *

Nadir is pretty damn sure the cat is gaslighting him. During the day, they do their best to stay out of each other’s way. At night all bets are off. He goes to sleep, has the door closed, so the damn thing cannot sneak in.

Nadir is a light sleeper, so he wakes up by the slightest movement or sound. He goes to bed alone without the damn cat, but he wakes up, usually after midnight and it is there.

At the end of the bed.

Watching him.

Waiting.

The cat curls it claws and bunches up the fabric of the blanket, it’s glowing eyes do no falter or leave Nadir. It stares into his soul. He’s pretty sure the cat is sizing him up for a kill, for a meal.

He knows it does not enter because of her master, Erik. Erik usually stays up well into the night. and when he does join Nadir, he makes sure she is not in the room, because Erik does not like animal fur on the bed. So, no. Erik does not let her in. The damn cat knows how to open doors on her own.

He tries to explain this to Erik.

“If you don’t want her in the room, close the door at night.”

Nadir glares at the damn thing. It is settled upon Erik’s lap and enjoys his touch. A lot of negative things can be said about Erik, but one redeemable quality is his love for animals. Yes, the Phantom. The Angel of Doom loves animals. He has framed pictures of his pets. 

Nadir is damn sure some of the compositions that Erik’s written are about the stupid feline. He knows he has a requiem for Sasha, his childhood dog.

The cat ignores him all day. In fact, the cat is Erik's shadow. Wherever its master is, the cat is at his side. That’s fine. That’s cool. The cat can stay the hell away.

At night however. Rules change at night.

“Don’t do that thing,” Nadir says to the cat. Nadir is preparing himself for bed. The cat is on the organ, her tails wags. Not a good. Nadir tries to look taller, Alpha, in charge.

“What thing?” Erik is only half aware that someone is around him, he’s usually lost entirely when he’s writing new music. So, to even respond to Nadir is an accomplishment.

“That cat knows what I’m talking about.” Nadir nods at it, her tail wags like a snapping whip.

“Keep the door closed, she can’t come in.” The cat stands up, arches its back, stretches, and then jumps onto her master’s lap and snuggles, then stares into Nadir’s soul.

“She knows how to open doors.” Nadir feels a strange pang of jealously as he watches the cat. Erik pets her with one hand while he plays the organ with the other.

“She cannot. You do not close it properly, clearly.”

“I’m telling you; she knows how to open doors. She opens it at night, and she watches me sleep, she is waiting for the right opportunity to kill me. “

Erik ignores him and lovingly pets his precious feline. Nadir waves them off and leaves for bed.

\--

* * *

Nadir closes the door. He presses his palm against the door, pulls at the door handle, he makes sure he does not turn it. The door is closed. It’s clicked in the proper places.

He triple checks. He goes to bed, settles. After a few minutes he sits up. The door is still closed. Nadir is satisfied and he turns out the light.

\--

* * *

Nadir sits up. He finches and nearly screams. The cat is there. The door is open. She is sitting at the end of the bed, her tail whips back and forth. Her eyes unlinking, bore into his soul.

Nadir hisses. The cat is unfazed. Nadir leans over, picks up a book from the side table and throws it. The feline is quick, because cat, and jumps off just in time.

Nadir curses it and then tries to go back to sleep.

\--

* * *

“She did it again!” Nadir has his bag packed. He will not stay while a creature is waiting for the right moment to eat him.

“This isn’t grounds for moving.”

The damn thing is rubbing itself against Erik’s legs. Nadir wants to throw things at it.

“I need a safe space.” Nadir says while glaring at the damnable feline.

“You’re not in danger here.” Erik picks the cat up, and she purrs and paws at him.

“I can’t do this.” Nadir voices full of emotion.

“You’re serious.” Erik recoils, he's tempted to lock Nadir in a gilded cage, but he resists.

Nadir nods, he adjusts the strap the bag on his shoulder. He cannot stay here.

Erik frowns. He’s in an awkward position. He loves his cat, but he does not want his lover to leave.

“I’ll crate her at night,” He casts Nadir a pleading sort of look. Nadir cannot resist those bedroom eyes. Nadir drops his bag.

\--

* * *

True to his word. Erik crates his precious that night. Nadir sleeps through the entire night and wakes up with a bounce to his step.

Erik wakes up first, like usual, he lets the cat out. She wastes no time in finding Nadir’s favorite shoes and using them as a litter box.

“So it’s going to be like that, is it?” Nadir sighs.

Small sacrifices for peace of mind at night.


	18. Pretty Day, Dark Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prettiest days lead to the darkest of times in Persia

* * *

Beautiful days in this cold cruel place are often the start of terrible times. The blood has been scrubbed from the stone and bones and other remains have been buried or other wise taken care of. The shah is no longer amused by his mother and her games. He slowly brings changes throughout the palace.

\--

* * *

Nadir Khan, his new Chief Advisor former daroga, has been avoiding certain individuals during certain moments.

He’s an excellent hider when he needs to hide. He knows the small places, groves and can marry the shadows like he’s blessed by Nyx herself. He’s been avoiding a very specific part of the palace after he heard Those Orders.

“Take a very large stick and break them all.” Nadir hears the shah order his men.

“Break all of what, shadow of god?” Nadir asks, he knows the answer, but he needs to hear it, he wants to be wrong.

“The mirrors.”

Nadir looks down at the ground and nods. He wishes he misheard. He’s grateful this is being done, he truly is, but he knows this could lead to war, or at least a very pesky and irksome, and painful battle.

“Do you disagree with that?”

Nadir’s head snaps up. He can feel beads of sweat fall off his brow and into his eyes, he squints and the blinks several times. He’s hates that he has obvious tells and a body that seems to work against him.

“It’s a long time coming,” Nadir says when he finds his ability to speak.

\--

* * *

Nadir hears the glass break and shatter. He hears the little Sultana cry out in anger, her threats and those who fall from her hand, Erik taught her how to use a lasso, and even gifted her one of her own not long ago. She’s gifted in the art of strangulation, but no where near Erik’s mastery or artistry, as he describes it.

Erik watches from his own dark corner. He could easily step in, kill them all in a matter of seconds and save the remaining mirrors of death.

Erik remains in the shadows. He watches. What thoughts could he be pondering behind that mask, his eyes are bright like always, but his thoughts? What could they be?

Nadir turns the corner and picks up his pace. He feels a chill sweep through, and he wraps his arms around himself. He shivers. It is a warm day, and he is shivering.

* * *

Nadir and Erik cross paths later in the day and Nadir feels a static shock strike his spine as they pass each other. Erik says nothing, makes no move, no indication of anger, but Nadir knows, he knows that Erik blames him for what has occurred. Nadir whispers a prayer of protection and peace as Erik passes.

Nadir trips on his feet and stumbles. Darius holds him up, keeps him from falling. Nadir turns to look at Erik, he's already gone. Nadir curses his luck and position.

* * *

It’s beautiful day. Nadir stands on the small balcony of his bedroom. The air is cool, and the warm golden sun is pleasant. He closes his eyes and spreads his arms out wide.

On days like this he pretends he’s a nobody that lives at the sea in a shanty town with his son. They will go to the sea and try their best to fish and bring home a net full of food and profit.

He can hear the sea shanties and laughter, feel the burn of the ocean spray and the aches from the salt and overused hands, the ropes digging into his skin.

Nadir rubs his hands together and licks his lips. The sun is beautiful, and his son is still asleep. The shadows have been pulled back by the light, and Nadir can breathe and enjoy his morning.

The monsters are asleep, and Nadir has no shame. In this moment he is honestly happy and in a place of peace and tranquility.

\--

* * *

“Did you hear her screaming?” Darius asks as he pours coffee. Reza was given cereal as a gift from a visiting diplomat, and since then he refuses to eat anything not from a Kellogg’s box.

“That’s not a breakfast conversation.” Nadir says. He doesn’t want to ruin his day with talks of her, not in his house, his safe place, not over breakfast, his special time with his family.

“I’m asking because I’m concerned what it means for,” Darius nods at Reza, who is making a mess of the space in front of him. He is wild in his movements. He is very animated. Nadir wonders if this has to do with his comedy he has been practicing or bad manners. He is not sure which.

“It is no longer my area. I leave that to my replacement.” Nadir takes the box of cereal away from Reza, who protests. Nadir scolds his son gently before placing the box on a surface behind them.

“So, you weren’t there when they,” Darius mimes swinging a bat and makes explosion sounds. Nadir shakes his head.

“Really.”

“Not my job.”

“This could end badly for us.”

“I’m the Chief advisor, I have nothing to do with that part of the court. Not anymore. Not our problem. I no longer babysit.” Nadir says trying to sound convincing. If you lie enough, you are supposed to believe it yourself.

“I’m just saying, if you wake up covered in blood—”

“Why would she send someone after me? I didn’t do it.”

“Because she’s completely mad and hates you? Jealously? She already tried to kill us gladiator style.”

“She underestimates us.”

“Who hates you, Papa?”

“This is not a breakfast topic!”

Nadir exhales and tries to finder his center. He closes his eyes and tries to see the beautiful morning, the sun, the golden glow of peace. He opens his eyes and Darius and Reza continue to eat in silence.

“Now, breakfast topic.” Nadir says.

* * *

“I have someone I would like you to entertain for me. A daughter of a new friend.” The shah says. Nadir nods. That is easy, painless, and harmless.

“I would like you to avoid certain places and individuals. I believe you know whom I speak of.” Nadir nods, he does. He loosens his shirt a bit and smiles. He bows.

\--

* * *

Erik meets Nadir in the hall as he leaves the court of the shah. Nadir takes a deep breath, perhaps it's in all his head, Erik being annoyed with him, they haven't seen each other for a week, Erik's been busy with his own services.

"Make any grand advising" Erik asks. Nadir recoils slightly at the tone. He lets out a breath and tries to pick up his pace, Erik matches it easily.

"I'm to entertain someone tonight." Nadir says.

"Entertain?" Erik asks, his tone says he's teasing, but Nadir knows that means nothing. Erik is a grand actor, but Nadir knows him. He can tell now when Erik is playing a part for a production of his own design.

"Yes, suggestions?" Nadir asks, playing into the fun.

"I hear that there is a magician, that can do so many wonderous things. He's kind of eccentric though." Erik says lightly. Nadir can feel himself relax. Nadir tries to fight it and focus, but Erik can do many wonderous things with his vocal sorcery, like put you completely at ease before the kill.

"I think I'll take her to the market and we'll see what happens from there. Probably a quiet night. How about you?"

"I have some things to take of. I'll make my own fun." Erik holds up his lasso, Nadir bites the inside of cheek and nods.

"We do what we must." Nadir says. Nadir stops. He is outside the door of the room where he is to meet the diplomat and his daughter.

"Erik, they were simply following the shah's orders. It wasn't personal." Nadir says. He wants to be wrong about his assumption.

"You're right, it wasn't personal. This is." He squeezes the lasso. Nadir is pretty damn sure Erik is smirking behind the mask and it makes him ill and angry. Erik bows sarcastically before he walks away.

* * *

He meets the daughter of the important friend. She is the daughter of an English diplomat. She is eighteen and he is to entertain her. Nadir is not entirely sure what teenagers like, the only teenager he is acquainted with is Erik, and he is not typical or normal, and he is to be avoided at all costs.

“I heard there’s some entertainer. A magician.” The girl says. Nadir waves his hands and smiles.

“We will not be able to watch a performance. Our schedules conflict. I’ll take to you to the town and market. We shall catch a performance at one of our local theatres.” Nadir says. The girl accepts this

\--

* * *

The shopping is painless for the most part. The girl, Elissa, likes all of the trinkets that catches her eyes and has a habit of squealing when she is happy. Nadir has learned to stand a few feet away from her, to avoid hearing damage.

They find a place to eat.

“This place is so cute and quaint.” Elissa says, she doesn’t want to touch anything. She smiles. Everything is just so adorable. How that anyone can live like this is amazing and she admires bravery. Nadir likes her less and less each minute, he hopes he is wrong about her.

\--

* * *

“Are there any boys my age around?” Elissa moans. She has only been able to spend time with her father so far and now Nadir. She had hoped someone her age was around, a son of the shah or someone from court.

“I’m afraid not, Elissa. My son is four, and you’ve met some of the court.” Nadir says.

“No one?”

Nadir shakes his head. They have arrived for the entertainment Nadir has arranged, theatre and then he will return her to her father.

“There’s got to be something more than this. Oh, please Mr. Khan.” Elissa pouts.

\--

* * *

“You said you had a son; can I meet him?” Elissa asks when they leave the theatre.

“My son? He’s probably asleep by now.” Nadir says. Elissa whines.

“Oh please, can I meet him? I love kids! I bet he’s adorable”

Nadir has a sense of pride when it comes to Reza and he does enjoy showing him off.

“I suppose a quick visit cannot hurt.” Nadir holds the door open of the taxi for her. He gives the diver his address.

\--

* * *

“Oh, he is precious!” Elissa pets Reza, he is half into the praise, but dislikes being treated like pet. He allows her a few pets before he backs away and slaps her hands. Nadir hisses at Reza to be polite. Reza apologizes and goes back to his room.

“He’s too cute.” Elissa sighs. Nadir nods. He goes to gather Elissa’s coat to take her home. Elissa moves fast, she goes to the cabinet and giggles. She holds out his bag of opium, his special hidden stash. Nadir curses and tries to grab at it.

Elissa is quick and moves around like they are in a dance, a kind of tango, she turns the stereo of and lights some candles.

“Ooh, come on. Let’s have some fun! When in Rome, well, Iran,” Elissa smiles. She sets the pipe up and Nadir is deeply regretting everything.

“This is not appropriate; your father will be displeased.”

“He’s high right now, I bet. You know it. This is a safe place, right? You’re not going to hurt me, right?” Elissa saunters over, and she places the pipe in Nadir mouth and rubs under his chin. He pulls it out, and she takes it.

This is entirely inappropriate, and Nadir feels sick. He takes the pipe from her and goes about to put everything back in order.

When he turns back, he’s blinded by the flash. She’s taking pictures. Nadir blinks and brings his hands over his eyes, she laughs, she’s fast, she grabs him, and takes pictures of them, she kisses his cheek, and he tries to move away, but too late, she takes several pictures.

“This is one of the instant cameras, look!” She shows off the photos.

“You can’t show these to anyone! They will think the wrong thing.” Nadir wants to gather and burn them. Elissa stumbles, Nadir is fast and catches her around the waist before she falls.

“I don’t feel so good,” she moans. Nadir helps her to a chair. He goes to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water. She slumps and slides out from the chair and onto the floor.

Nadir rushes to her side, he holds her head up and helps her drink the water.

“She is not for everyone.” Nadir says. He gently lifts Elissa and puts her back into the chair. Nadir refills the glass and helps her drink. He’s about to stand when she grabs him and kisses him. Nadir breaks away shaking. Elissa looks behind him and screams.

Nadir jumps and turns, ready for anything but what he sees.

Erik.

Dressed all in black.

His face covered by an all porcelain mask.

A full faced mask that is smeared with blood.

“This is Elissa, she’s the daughter of a visiting diplomat. The shah asked me to entertain her for the evening. I told you about her, remember?” Nadir says this, believing these are best words to be used.

Erik remains still and silent.

“What is that?” Elissa asks, her speech slurred. Nadir does not know what to do. Address her or Erik, what is the best choice? Circle your answer!

Erik bends down and picks up a photograph, one of Nadir being kissed by Elissa, Erik turns it to show Nadir, whose face reddens. Erik crumples it and he radiates anger and hatred.

“That’s not what I meant by entertaining.” Nadir mutters. Elissa pulls at Nadir’s sleeve.

“Can I lay down somewhere?”

Nadir nods, he helps her stand and leads her to the sofa. Nadir makes sure she is comfortable before he returns hastily to Erik, who is now holding the opium pipe.

Nadir does **_not_** share opium with **_anyone_**. He made it a point to tell Erik that he should feel damn special that he can have access to his secret stash.

Nadir does not want anyone to know he has and uses opium and Erik is literally the only one who knows Nadir does, so for Nadir to share with some stupid bitch he doesn’t know is pretty fucked and Erik does **_not_** share Nadir, so Erik is going to kill her for this slight.

Nadir blocks her from Erik and he grabs Erik’s hands and sends him pleading glances.

“I know what it looks like, but it’s **_not_**! I didn’t—she found it on her own.”

Erik violently and quickly frees himself and is at the sofa. Nadir jumps on him from behind and grabs his neck.

“She’s just a kid,” Nadir pleads. Erik is technically a kid too and that is not lost on either of them.

Erik grabs Nadir hands and spins around, he flips Nadir over the sofa, he bounces and then he rebounds and lands on the glass coffee table and breaks it with his body and falls through and lands on the ground.

He cries out in pain. Darius and Reza enter the room, Darius grabs Reza and holds him in a tight embrace

“ _Papa_!?”

 ** _“Erik fix this!”_** Darius sneers/hisses. His voice is loud and commanding. He steps back into his room with Reza crying and lashing out in his arms.

\--

* * *

Nadir does not remember how he ended up on his stomach, but he is, he’s in an incredible pain and his entire body feels like fire and that knives are intermittingly stabbing his flesh.

He can hear voices outside his door.

“I will bring her home, take of Nadir. I’ll deal with the shah and the father.” Darius is angry and his speech is rushed, and he does not hide his frustration.

He is usually calm and cool. He does not risk annoying Erik or overstepping his bounds. Darius is the first one to kiss the feet of a demon if it will keep them from violence.

* * *

Nadir hears a chair being dragged along the floor and towards the bed. Nadir’s back is on fire and he’s pretty sure he has spikes lodged into his spine, and he is doing his damn best to not scream or bite his pillows so he can scream.

Nadir is pretty damn sure Erik is still annoyed with him, so this is not going to be a fun time. Nadir grabs the fabric of his sheets, as Erik presses his fingers into his back and presses the glass further into his skin, before pulling the pieces out.

Erik is definitely still annoyed.

* * *

It takes a little over an hour for the glass pieces to be fully removed and Nadir's back to be cleaned and patched up. Erik takes great care when he cleans and bandages his lover. Nadir sits up.

"If it's any consolation, I found her to be rather irritating." Nadir says, trying be playful.

"You broke a few of her ribs when you landed on her. That helped a little." Erik says as he picks up the mess.

"You're welcome!" Nadir says brightly. Erik stands up.

"I'm sure the shah has some opinions on that." Erik says as he walks towards the door.

"Oh, um. Can I borrow that lasso," Nadir says mostly joking. Erik says nothing as he closes the door.


	19. The Dancer, The Soprano, and The Hair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christine hosts Christmas.

* * *

[Alive With the Glory of Love - YouTube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JmPJ63PUTDY)   
[Hum Along - Ludo - YouTube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tQUtoZUouxI)   
[Neil Diamond - Sweet Caroline High Quality neildiamond - YouTube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1vhFnTjia_I)   
  


* * *

This is the first year Christine is hosting Christmas. Her husband’s relatives intend to stay for two weeks, and when Raoul’s family comes around, he becomes a different person.

So, to have someone in her corner, she invited the Girys. Meg is peasant and funny and can diffuse awkward and tense situations. Mama Giry is intense, and a single look can shut It down.

So, Christine has that.

Christine has fond memories of spending Christmas with her father in their small town near Upsala. They would sing carols and he would fiddle. The locals would look forward to this each year and when they moved to France, Christmas just was not as magical. Her father became quite homesick and her festive holiday mirth lessened each year.

Christine does not want to be sad anymore. She has a stable position at Opera Populaire, she is married, she has a best friend who lives enough life for both, and she got the music back.

Speaking of the best friend, she is supposed to meet Christine at her home so she can help with the cooking.

\--

* * *

“Is there an Angel of Cooking?” Christine can already feel the panic begin to set in.

“Hestia,” Meg says without hesitation, she is looking through the recipe book Christine brought out.

“Really? She whispers recipes and cooking techniques into your ear while you sleep?” Christine hardly knows her own people’s mythology let alone Greek.

“She’s the token domestic patron. What are we thinking about cooking?”

“Well, my father and I would have lefse, lingonberries, pickled herring, lutfisk” Christine says.

“Do you have any of that?”

“I do.”

“Never had lutfisk before, exciting.”

\--

* * *

“This works with other fish, you pack it with salt and the flavor is supposed to enhance, but the salt comes off when it’s finished.” Meg explains.

Christine takes a container and packs the fish with salt. Meg puts her phone on the speaker and presses play. _The Nightmare Before Christmas begins._

_“_ This is the most versatile holiday film,” Meg hums along as she preheats the oven.

“What are you making?” Christine asks as she looks over briefly. Meg pulls out green beans and a few cans of mushroom soup.

“Green bean casserole. Simple. Delicious. Works for every holiday.”

\--

* * *

“ _If I said you were beautiful girl, would it upset you,”_ Meg sings to the dish as she slides it carefully into the oven.

“ _The way you look tonight, all silhouetted,”_ Christine motions Meg’s entire body into a circular violent motion,” _I’ll never forget it_.”

_“It isn’t right for me to paint your picture every night, but I do_ ,” Meg and Christine pick up spoons.

“ _It feels so wrong to sing this song, but maybe, somehow you’ll hear me.”_

Both girls dance next to each other and position their backs against each other and lean and move froward like rockers.

“ _So good, so good, so good,”_ they sing in rhythmic unison.

“It always comes back to Neil Diamond.”

“ _Reaching out, dear lord,”_ both girls turn to face each other, they outstretch their hands and take a step away from each other, _“touching me_ ,” they both use a free hand to rub their body,” _touching you! Sweet Caroline_!”

Cooking preparations be dammed, they two friends get lost in their kitchen karaoke. They dance in circles and let their love for the music control them.

“ _So good, so good, so good_!”

\--

* * *

Christine dramatically leans against the sink, she spreads her arms out and poses like she is ready, willing, and open for sensual business beyond mortal measure.

“So, then he did this,” Christine tosses her hair and head dramatically and poses. She then rubs her body, roughly, trying to mimic Erik’s dark, sordid sexual energy.

“He wanted to do you right there in the foyer? On that dark day? Right where you were standing? Oh, Mr. Black eyeliner, you look finer with each day in captivity.”

“I was kind of into it.” Christine says, still in the pose.

“You said you fainted though,” Meg makes a face of worry.

“I did, and I woke up alone in a coffin.” Christine shudders at the memory.

“That’s romantic and normal.” Meg’s eyes pop a little as she shakes her head.

“Didn’t you tell me, that two of you have **_sex_** in that same coffin?”

“Hey, where are the cranberries?” Meg ignores her friend and the flush of heat from her face. Christine smiles smug like and points to the bag on the counter.

\--

* * *

“So, where are the in-laws?” Meg asks. They are taking a break from cooking and decided to watch some TV.

“Raoul is giving them a tour of the city. Where is Erik?”

“I hid his composing quill so; he’s trying to find it. Good luck.” Meg breaks off into a chuckle. Christine arches a brow.

“Composing quill?”

Meg nods.

“He’s totally got one of those. Good luck finding it! Hid it in my room, he never goes in there. He’s no Hufflepuff. Can’t find anything. Hey, why is Erik locked out of the house?” Meg looks at Christine pointedly.

“Why is Erik locked out of the house?”

“Because he can’t find the key and doesn’t know his way in.” Meg and Christine, “ooooh,” and high five.

“Music joke!”

“How many tenors does it take to change a lightbulb?” Meg asks, Christine shrugs.

“How many tenors does it take?”

“At least four. One to actually do it and three to say they can do it better.”

“What’s the difference between a soprano and a Porsche?”

Meg shrugs and Christine flashes a cheeky smile.

“Most musicians have never been inside a Porsche.”

They high five again.

“Wait, you’re a soprano,” Meg says, and Christine ignores her and turns up the volume on the TV.

\--

* * *

Raoul sniffs the air, and it tantalizes the senses. He feels his tension and anxiousness melt away. He follows the sweet fragrance as if it is calling his name.

“Are we making candy?” He asks as he looks about in glee. Christine pauses from rolling cookie dough.

“No, that’s fish and the green beans.” Christine says. Meg turns her head to the oven. Panic sets in, her face pales and then she smiles awkwardly.

“Uh, Christine, I think you may have confused the sugar and salt.” Meg heads to the oven and pulls out the fish. Raoul watches.

“What? No, I used the salt.”

Meg drops the fish dish onto the stovetop. Raoul and Meg both lean in and sniff. Yup. It smells like caramel.

“That’s one way to bake fish,” Meg snorts. Raoul turns to his wife.

“I’m sure it’s fine.” Meg hands Raoul a fork and he takes a cautious taste.

“Well?” Meg crosses her arms and lean against the counter.

“I wouldn’t necessarily order this at a restaurant.” He says slowly. He turns to Christine.

“A for effort.” He smiles falsely. Christine tries to ignore her dark feelings of failure. Meg takes a bit of sugar fish herself and she mms.

“So good, so good, so good!” She jeers. Christine tries not to cry in frustration.


	20. Nadir's Mental Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nadir allows himself one Mental Day per year.

* * *

Nadir Kahn was born the world’s moral compass. He has strong convictions and views, while he will yield or give to a degree depending on certain circumstances, the fact remains, he is everyone’s Papa and he will take care of you, mentor you, heal your boo-boos and teach and show you how the world should be.

Nadir also allows himself one day a year to go completely mental, so he does not go completely mental. Darius has always been Nadir’s caretaker when Nadir does not take care of himself, which is often.

\--

* * *

The poor servant cannot shake his mad pursuer. His lungs burn from the inability to control his breathing, his legs are short and he cannot run fast or far. He can hear his heart beat inside his head and he must stop soon or he is sure he will die. He is not sure why he is being hunted, he has tried in vain to hide, to confuse his predator. He is trying his luck now in the gardens, and it is not with him.

“No matter how hard he tried, he could not outrun the demon!” Nadir jumps out and hisses at the poor creature, who screams, looses footing, and falls backwards. Nadir cries out, drops to the ground and laughs madly. The poor servant crawls backwards in desperate evasion.

“He will not have his soul taken today!” Darius jumps out from his hiding spot and grabs Nadir around the middle.

“Aaah! I am beaten!” Nadir waves his arms wildly. Darius motions for the pathetic thing on the ground to take this time to flee and they do.

“What did you take this time?” Darius asks, not letting go of his high friend, who giggles and tries to look innocent. Darius inhales and tries to maintain.

“Words taste like dates.” Nadir sighs happily and his eyes flutter and close. Darius shakes his head but is not sure if he can loosen his grip just yet.

“Daroga?”

Darius nods his greeting to the masked teen and Nadir makes strange noises and tries to wiggle and starts to struggle in Darius hold, he is agitated, his breathing becomes erratic.

“Not the best time to call, Erik,” Darius smiles as he tries to keep his hold.

“ ** _What.Is.That.”_** Nadir manages to get an arm free and points at Erik. Erik turns his head and Darius sighs, he smiles sadly.

“Forgive him, he’s out of sorts today. Nadir, this is Erik, you know him. He’s your friend.”

“ErikErikErikErikErikErik,” Nadir repeats, his eyes glaze over. Darius starts to walk backwards as Nadir mindlessly repeats the name, “Erik,”

“I’m sure he’ll explain tomorrow, must be on our way now!” Darius waves him off with a hand before he focuses his attentions on Nadir.

\--

* * *

Nadir hisses, he drops to his knees and barks at the cat. He growls, spits and gets into the animal’s space, the shah and the court are caught between amusement and horror, their daroga, does not behave this way normally and for him to, is most unusual.

The cat cries out, hisses, and yowls and yelps. Nadir bit its neck, Darius jumps into action, he grabs Nadir, who lets the cat go, the shah cries out his rage and protests.

“He’s not well, shadow of god, pray for his mind,” Darius drags him out of court before the shah can demand an execution

* * *

Nadir is carrying a rather large stick and has a lopsided grin plastered on his face. His clothing is covered in dirt and muck, he is a man on a mission. He lets his legs take him to his destination. The little sultana has her masked magician entertaining her and her friends, and Nadir has something he and his friendly stick would like to say.

He raises it above his head as he walks forward, he ignores the cries of shock, his masked friend's confusion and amusement. He stops in front of the sultana, whose guards are in front of her before you can say coconuts.

"Stop!" Darius is out of breath and turn. He has been chasing his friend all day, he lost him at some point and he has been running like headless animal to get back to Nadir.

"He's not well!" Darius cries out, he is out of breath, he is covered with dirt and sweat. Nadir pauses, he holds the stick above his head and is waiting for Darius to let him unfreeze. The guards try to take his wooden weapon, but he remains firm in his conviction to staying still, and his grip is unrelenting.

"Give me the stick," Darius says, his breathing haggard and he's half hunched as he walks up to his friend, who turns, but does not lower the stick.

"No." Nadir features change, he pouts. He half turns back to the sultana,

" _ **Now**_." Darius demands firmly. Nadir turns back, still pouting.

"No."

"I'm not asking," Darius holds out his hand waiting for the hand over.

"My stick."

"Nadir Khan give me the damn stick or I will tell Reza."

Nadir eeps and hands over the stick, Darius then grabs Nadir.

* * *

Nadir collapses face first onto the floor, Darius sighs and goes to the cabinet, he knows where Nadir keeps the opium and for the love Allah does he need some. 

"Floor feels sand." Nadir mumbles into the floor. He turns his face and exhales. Darius throws pillows down on the ground and makes himself comfortable.

"Floor feels hot." Nadir moans.

"It's lava," Darius slaps the back of Nadir's head who yelps in pain. He sits up suddenly and screams, he does a strange dance and jumps onto the furniture. 

"Lavalavalavalava." Nadir cries. He points at the ground and screams at Darius to come towards him before he melts.

"Grant me strength," Darius prays into the opium.


	21. Beach Day

* * *

“I regrettably, respectfully, refuse your request regarding my presence to appear at court,” Nadir pauses and looks at Darius and the official messenger.

“I am but a humble servant, and my services are sending me on a sojourn swiftly in a different direction,” Darius is reading from a thesaurus and is proud he can pronounce some of these fancier words.

“These matters require my full attention, and therefore I would be a disservice to you, and your court, shadow of god,” the messenger says, he’s been writing everything down that has been said thus far.

“Your faithful Daroga.” Nadir is happy with his message. The messenger nods and he take his leave. Reza runs out holding a towel and is all excited.

“Beach day!”

“Remember the official story is, we’re taking you to get medical attention and services while I attend to official police matters,” Nadir says sternly, but with a smile.

Reza changes his affect to sicky, he coughs, he hunches over, and he exaggerates his limp and reaches out his hands, his eyes closed.

“I cannot see,” he coughs for drama. Darius and Nadir applaud and Reza bows.

\--

* * *

Darius and Nadir set up their spot on the sand, towels laid out, they have an umbrella of sorts for shade, a book to impress strangers. Reza ran straight into the water and is trying to catch whatever he can.

“That book’s written in French,” Darius arches a brow before he turns his attention to Reza,” I can speak French now too.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Croissant, baguette, Paris. Bam. French,” Darius starts towards the water, Nadir chuckles follows his friend.

“Your fluency is impressive, my friend.”

\--

* * *

“I am Poseidon!” Reza cries out and waves crash against him, he is being held in the air by Darius.

“He is Poseidon,” Darius spits out salt water. Nadir watches the two of them, he is ready to act if something happens.

“Look out for mermaids,” Reza investigates the water with giddy glee.

* * *

Reza and Darius took the time to build their sand village. They poured their love, sweat and tears from the salty air, into their sand creation. It took them about two hours to perfect it.

It took then less than two minutes to destroy it.

“Rawar, I am dinosaur,” Reza stomps and kicks at the sand village and Darius makes cries of the people.

Nadir smiles and then goes back to reading his book. It is a good day.

* * *

“Why don’t we just live here?” Darius asks as they get settled in their room at the Inn.

“We tried that once, remember? Assassins?” Nadir speaks softly, Reza is asleep on the bed.

“To be fair, we ran off in the middle of the night, this time we did send word we would be unavailable.” Darius looks out the window, they have a view of the water.

“They won’t let my absence pass. They will call for me or assassins.” Nadir watches his son.

“And we will endure and fight them off like before.” Darius presses his palm against the window and leans forward, taking in the view.

“Erik will be annoyed. Half of my duties are to spy on him. What if I do get replaced? How long do you think the new Daroga will last?” Nadir frowns, he walks over to Reza and pulls the blanket up to his chin.

"Oh, don't you worry. I made sure to leave a note on your behalf. It'll be fine.”

* * *

There is a note posted the door of Nadir's home at the palace:

"Back in fifteen minutes." A gloved hand takes the note.

* * *

"We shall enjoy this weekend and return to the shah." Nadir turns out the light by the bed Reza is resting. Darius pouts, he really wanted to live on the beach.

"As you wish, my friend. This could have a been a great life. The beach, all day." Darius mourns the life he cannot live and he prepares for bed.

"In the next life, surely, we deserve this," Nadir says, gesture to the beach view. Darius snorts.

"I don't know, not after what you did to those cats," Darius pulls the blanket back on the bed and settles. Nadir throws his sandal at his servant and best friend.

"Those cats made their choices, I did not force death upon them!" Reza makes a noise, Nadir looks at his son, Reza settles back and turns, snoring softly.

"Goodnight, cat killer," Darius chuckles as Nadir throws his other sandal.


End file.
